


Somewhere Over a Rainbow

by Melethril



Series: When All Other Lights Go Out [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Dr. Linda, BAMF!Lucifer, BAMF!Maze, Case Fic, Devil!Reveal, Early Season 1 AU, Ella joined the crew early, Father Frank joins the team, Gen, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, I noticed a distinct lack of BAMF!Lucifer as a tag in AO3 fanfic and decided to chime in, Linda deserves a raise, Lucifer cares about his patrons, Lucifer the Lightbringer, Lux (Lucifer TV), Lux is the safest nightclub in all of LA, Nightclub Owner Lucifer, No Romance, Protective Lucifer, angel lore, could she be anything else?, lots of friendships and crime fighting though, not graphic but the crimes are mentioned and these are terrible, the piano is its own character… or it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 89,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melethril/pseuds/Melethril
Summary: An increased number of attacks on members of the LGBTQ community in and nearby LGBT-friendly nightclubs in all major US cities calls the attention of the FBI. Together with the LAPD, they wish to find out who is behind these attacks.Lieutenant Monroe gives the case to Detectives Chloe Decker and Dan Espinoza due to their recent off-the-books collaboration with the owner of Lux.Whatever they expected, this was not it.





	1. Once More With Gritted Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverWolf7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWolf7/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Helping Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667123) by [SilverWolf7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWolf7/pseuds/SilverWolf7). 



> Let me start out by saying that I am in love with the Lucifer fandom. You guys are fantastic and very supportive of newcomers, which I appreciate! 
> 
> Let me also tell you that I am an awful romance writer and I prefer to focus on budding and existing friendships and the bonds that come with that. So this is Gen. I hope that's okay for you.
> 
> The story takes place in early season one before Lucifer becomes an LAPD consultant.
> 
> I would also like to thank SilverWolf7 for the inspiration and for lending me her version of Patrick.
> 
> The title is from the Wizard of Oz.

“Espinoza, Decker!” Lieutenant Monroe called them sharply and with authority. She was not the type to shout having learned long ago that being overly aggressive would gain her no friends and would give her the moniker of being a harpy instead of the no nonsense-type of lieutenant she actually was. “My office!”

The homicide detectives immediately complied with an apologetic smile to Ella, their new forensic scientist, a true gem and breath of fresh air in their difficult line of work.

Chloe and Dan entered their lieutenant’s office where the first thing they noticed were the suits, followed by the presence of Detectives Carl Martin and Simon McEnroe. They looked none too happy; but then, being close friends of Malcolm Graham, that was their default expression around Chloe.

“Detective Espinoza, Detective Decker. These are Special Agents Michael Simmons and Raphael Bianchi from the FBI. Apparently, the case that Martin and McEnroe were called to this morning is no longer in our hands,” she looked none too happy about that. “We are the fifth city and the third state affected by a similar MO, but I will let Special Agent Simmons brief you.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant, and believe me I do not enjoy nor do I wish to take this investigation away from the LAPD, but if it is anything like what we have seen in New York, San Francisco, Chicago and Washington D.C. then this morning’s murder is just the beginning. About ten months ago, the NYPD has noticed increased incidences of violent attacks against the LGBT community, always outside of clubs and bars known to be supportive of LGBT rights but not technically counting as gay establishments. Assuming this to be a local matter, the NYPD investigated but found no culprits. Independently, similar crimes were reported in San Francisco and Chicago. Usual MO are attacks on single persons, generally more men than women of variable ethnicity, by a group of three to five people. Attackes involved severe beatings, occasionally using sticks but no other weaponry was involved. There were no racial or homophobic slurs uttered while the assault was ongoing. A few weeks in, the MO changed and people were insulted with homophobic slurs, primarily using the word ‘fag’ or ‘faggot’. The NYPD noticed the pattern and started investigating, and that was when the first murder was reported.” As he spoke he handed out pathology reports that made Dan’s skin crawl when he read the details of what was done to the victims. He had seen many things, but this easily made the top of the list of ‘Horrifying things people are capable of doing to each other’.

“Wait,” interrupted Chloe. “How come the media hasn’t picked up on these crimes yet? They are usually all over such hate crimes. The LGBT community needs to be warned.”

“It was an executive decision to keep these murders under wraps to avoid panic and to keep the culprits from knowing that we are onto them. The only ones with knowledge of these crimes outside of the FBI and the local PDs are the owners of the clubs who fear that this kind of news would scare off their clientele.”

A surge of distaste coursed through Dan. This kind of selfish behavior was so typical. It immediately made him think of Mr. Morningstar, and he grimaced as a response, Chloe’s thoughtful expression told him that she was thinking along the same lines (though, for some inexplicable reason, with less disdain). Either not noticing or ignoring their reactions, the special agent continued.

“As soon as the murders started in New York, they also happened in all the cities I just mentioned. LA is simply next in line, indicating once and for all that we deal with an organization that can reach across the entire country. We still have no idea what’s behind this. One thing was curious about LA, however, and this is why we’re here. You see, so far we’ve had every reason to believe that the unknown suspects use a website called _Friends of Dorothy_ , an online tool that helps finding LGBTQ-friendly establishments in all major cities. Major and first target has so far been the club that made the top of that list. Not in LA, however. Here, they went for club number 3, which is several blocks way from the top establishment, which is where we would like to start our investigation while Detectives McEnroe and Martin continue theirs with two of our colleagues who are currently on the way.”

Dan’s heart skipped a beat. He knew why the lieutenant called them specifically. He still asked to confirm his awful suspicion, “What’s the top?”

“A nightclub called Lux.”

* * *

Not one hour later, they stood in front of Lucifer Morningstar’s high-end nightclub. They flashed their IDs to gain entry and stepped into the carefully lit club.

“Alright, so his security is tight,” mentioned Simmons to Bianchi who just nodded. For the first time, Dan noticed them. The security guards wore tasteful suits and were extremely good at disappearing into the background, but there were at least four in the room as far as Dan could see, possibly five if he counted the lady standing near the elevators. Feeling eyes on him, he turned only to look at one Mazikeen Smith who was not tending the bar, but lounging on one of the couches with a very happy guy – or male-looking lady – sitting very close by.

“Detective!” an already all to familiar British voice sounded from behind. “To what do I the pleasure of your visit?” Then he glanced at Dan before looking over Simmons and Bianchi.

“Official business, I see,” his smile never wavered. “What does the FBI and the LAPD want from yours truly?” he asked, his grin and eyes wide.

“How did you…?” began Dan.

“You are both not dressed for a night out and these gents’ suits are not made for partying while their very aura screams ‘investigator but not LAPD’ , which leaves federal which leaves US Marshals but they usually wear shinier uniforms and the DEA is usually better at blending in. I think Charlotte Hayes and her partner Trevor Anderson are even mingling tonight, if I’m correct. Ah, yes, over there.” With a strange mixture of horror and awe, Dan looked in the direction where Morningstar was pointing, only to see a highly trained DEA agent with one of the biggest conviction rate in her department (and yes, he had known about the DEA investigating Lux, because he did not trust the guy and he wanted to uncover all the dirty little secrets the man had) down a drink with a smile on her face. “Now that leaves the ATF, lovely people I assure you, and the FBI. Welcome to LA, gentlemen, and welcome to Lux where you are welcome to live out your innermost desires.” Something about the way he said it, was hypnotic. Dan wanted to tell him, no insisted on telling him that all he wanted was being a good father to Trixie and that he was hoping to make things right with Chloe this time around. It was on the tip of his tongue, because Morningstar – no, Lucifer – he really needed to know. Dan could feel it. There was nothing the nightclub owner wanted more than his absolute honesty and…

Morningstar turned his head just slightly, so that Dan could not longer see his eyes and what the hell was he thinking, for God’s sake?

“What is your name, darling?” said the supposed devil, addressing Bianchi, who seemed slightly dazed when he answered.

“Raphael Bianchi and this is my partner,” he halted for a second before clarifying, “my work partner, Michael Simmons.”

Just like that, the magic was broken when Lucifer scoffed, “Michael and Raphael, really? Are you kidding me? Please, don’t tell me that your colleagues called Raguel, Remiel, Uriel, Azrael and Gabriel will soon arrive."

Okay, he was by no means very religious (very much to his mother’s and _abuela’_ s consternation), and he believed Lucifer Morningstar to be a delusional and dangerous indivdual (who would name themselves after the great Adversary?), but it was slightly impressive to have the man drop the name of the seven archangels on the top of his head without faltering, when all Dan could remember – after years and years in church as a kid and later an adult – were four on a good day.

“We do have a Gabriel in our department,” laughed Simmons good-naturedly. “But that’s about how many colleagues are named after the archangels from the bible.”

To their surprise, Lucifer cocked his head, and his expression intensified for a second before he sighed in obvious relief. “Not him. Good.” Then, he turned to face Bianchi, looking strangely sad.

“What can I do for you, my dear FBI agents?”

“Do you have an office where we could discuss this matter?”

Morningstar nodded, clasped his hands together and said, “Follow me, Special Agents and Detectives.” Without another word, as if expecting them to just follow, he led them through the club. On his way past the bar, a man wordlessly passed him a glass containing an amber-colored liquid that Dan identified as whiskey. Taking a sip, the man’s gentle voice thanked ‘Patrick’ then made an offhanded comment that he would offer them a drink, but since they were working he knew they would decline before they left the room. Just before Dan stepped outside into a small sidechamber, he noticed from the corner of his eyes that Mazikeen Smith had left her companion and was now wandering through the club, her eyes no longer gleaming with lust and delight, instead, they seemed to be made of ice and steel. It sent a shiver down Dan’s spine.

Why did he have the feeling that there was a cat out on the prowl and he was the meal?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit May 19, 2019: Had to make a quick update regarding the angel names. I have gathered very confusing and conflicting information on the number of archangels and their names (also because there are usually about half a dozen different ways of spelling them), so I just mixed it all up to make it fit my story :)


	2. The Devil's Lair is a Nightclub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer’s office was both precisely what Chloe expected and the exact opposite at the same time.  
> The same could be said about his skill as a performer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support.
> 
> I have a tag to add that I forgot: While Chloe is a miracle in this and immune to his ‘bring out people’s desire’ powers as a result, he is not mortal around her.

Lucifer’s office was both precisely what Chloe expected and the exact opposite at the same time.

Spacious with expensive furniture? Check.

Large desk with a big, luxurious yet sinfully cosy chair? Check.

Equally tasteful round desk with multiple, nice chairs for meetings? Check.

A couch to make out with the occasional patron? Oh yeah.

What was a bit surprising was that one corner of the room dedicated to first-aid: a large first-aid kit, a defibrillator, an emergency button, a landline, even an emergency eye-wash station. Right next to it was a door marked as “emergency shower.” The art on the walls was subtle yet remarkably tasteful and not overly sensual.

“Apologies for bringing you here.” Lucifer stated with a genuinely remorseful expression. “This is the staff meeting room, but it’s the closest office we have and I need to go and play my set in twenty minutes. We should be undist… or not.” The door opened and one of the strippers/dancers – whatever he called them – entered the room.

“Julia, is everything alright?” asked Lux’ owner with a worried expression. The girl in question smiled, “I am fine, Mr. Mor… Boss, thank you, just tired. Ben’s teething and I didn’t sleep nearly as much as I should.” Sympathetically, Chloe nodded. As much as parents tended to retrospectively idealize the time their little girl or boy was a baby, she was so glad that this awful period without enough sleep was over and done with. “I am just taking a short breather. After your set is over, I’ll rejoin the girls.”

“Nonsense,” countered Lucifer, his voice soft but firm. “Take the rest of the night off. We are currently unusually overstaffed anyway with both Carol and you back in the game. Go home. Or catch some sleep in the suite and then go home to your teething spawn.”

“I can’t take this, boss. I started working again two weeks ago, part-time, after six months of paid maternity leave at full pay. That already goes so far beyond what any member of my profession would get, it’s ridiculous. I can’t take time off now just because I’m tired.” She looked genuinely distressed at the prospect and Chloe froze.

Six months of maternity leave? At full pay?

Chloe remembered sitting together with Dan like it was yesterday when they tried to hash out just precisely how much maternity leave she could afford before it significantly impacted her career and their finances. She had been forced to return three months after Trixie’s birth.

“Julia, look at me,” said Lucifer gently, but the woman avoided his gaze.

“Nope, you’re not going to do your magic trick on me,” said she. To Chloe’s surprised, the nightclub owner took a step back, clearly hurt, but simultaneously spreading his arms in a calming gesture.

“I have never done that with anyone working at this club, and I am not going to start with you.”

Julia’s eyes immediately filled with tears and she briefly enclosed Lucifer’s left hand with her right before letting go quickly. “That was the exhaustion talking, I swear, I know you haven’t.” She then met his gaze unflinchingly.

“It’s alright,” said he calmly. “Let me remind you that, and perhaps I should’ve talked to you right after you returned, but I’m afraid Delilah’s murder has thrown me off-kilter, so let me tell you something you may have forgotten while you were gone. You work for Lucifer Morningstar. Your wellbeing is Lux’ top priority. Higher than its patrons, higher than my own. You have a demanding job as a dancer and server at this establishment always making sure everyone is having a fabulous time. I gave you that time off at full pay because I know people like you want to be as close to their children as possible and because I personally want you to be able to do just that without having to worry about a paycheck. The staff at Lux primarily consists of females, and, since the last time I checked, humans were not closely related to seahorses or the Common Surinam toad, it is your gender that exclusively gives birth to your offspring.” The dancer giggled at that, briefly looking to the floor before she lifted her head again to meet her employer’s gaze. “It’s been five and a half years since I came to LA and five since I opened up Lux. I knew I would be confronted with this issue, so I took precautions. I know you did not work for me for long before you became pregnant, Julia, but when you signed that contract of employment, we made a deal: for as long as you wish and for as long as you can, you come to Lux, you hand out drinks, you dance, and make sure you and your colleagues are safe. In return, Lux will make sure to cover your health bills and to cover for you when you are on maternity leave and whenever you need time off afterwards. Deal’s off when you no longer wish to work here or if you commit any kind of misconduct in this establishment. Being too tired because your son’s teething is… strange, frankly, but then I don’t have children and I swear my younger siblings never had any teething problems… but it’s not a breach of our contract. Lie down, get some sleep and go home. Your job will still be here tomorrow, you have my word.”

Julia was not the only one left speechless after these assuring words. Hell, if it did not go against everything she believed in, _she_ would think about applying for a position at Lux after that.

Slightly embarrassed and grateful beyond words, the dancer excused herself, but not before assuring Lucifer that she would take a nap in the ‘suite’ before she went home.

“Jes- Ma’am! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” exclaimed Bianchi, and Chloe too was surprised to see Maze in the room. They had not heard her come in.

“Call up Ronda, please,” Lucifer ordered casually as if he had known she was there. “Her shift begins at ten. Get Ben on the table with the shy gentlemen in the back, I think they’d prefer his company. Julia’s out for today. I’ll play a longer set tonight and we should do something for the staff next week. They deserve it.”

Worldlessly, the scary lady nodded and turned around.

“And Maze?” asked Lucifer. There was a tone in his voice that was both dangerous and fond. She turned twisting her tongue a bit.

“Yes, Lucifer?” The way she said his name was both sensual and challenging.

“Thank you.”

Just like that, all challenge was gone only to be replaced by something Chloe would interpret as concern. She turned and left without another word.

“Now that this little drama is over, why don’t you make yourselves comfortable and tell me why you’re here?” With that, he joined them by the round table.

“Mr. Morningstar,” began Special Agent Simmons, “Do you know anything about _Friends of Dorothy?”_

“Of course. It’s an American euphemism for gay people and dates back to World War II, I think, right after the Wizard of Oz came out. You know the whole _“You have some queer friends, Dorothy"/"The queerness doesn't matter, so long as they're friends"_ thing. Why?”

“What about the website?” asked Bianchi.

“Website?” Confusion morphed into honest delight, “Oh, are we talking about a gay porn site, because that would be…”

“No,” Chloe interrupted before he could make one of his childish jokes. “It ranks the top LGBTQ-friendly establishments that are not explicitly gay clubs in all major cities, and…”

“But, Detective!” Lucifer protested. “Wouldn’t that make these clubs just… Dorothy? That doesn’t make any sense. That’s a truly awful attempt at a clever idea to name a website.”

“Lucifer, focus!” Chloe ordered, both amused and exasperated with the man’s antics. “Members of the LGBTQ community have been attacked and murdered near or even inside of establishments from that list. LA is the fifth city suffering from these crimes, after New York, Washington D.C., San Francisco and Chicago.”

Lucifer cocked his head slightly, standing as still as a statue. The room was not well lit and Chloe briefly wondered when a shadow had fallen over Lucifer’s face. When she remained silent, waiting for his response, he said in a very low voice, “Go on, Detective.”

Simmons explained in detail some of the crimes committed against the victims, though he had not brought any of the pictures or even files. First, they had wanted to approach the nightclub owner more subtly and second, carrying these files into a crowded club where anybody could accidentily bump into them causing them to involuntarily drop the files spilling the ‘beans’ in the process was a not insignificant rik. Finally, both Simmons and Bianchi decided that Lucifer should not have to deal with the gruesome part of this investigation; an opinion that Chloe shared. While undoubtedly capable of standing up against criminals, this kind of violence had shaken even her and Dan and they have been working homicide case for years now.

“Do you have any leads? Why come to me?”

“Lux made it it to the top of LA’s list on _Friends of Dorothy_.”

As a response, Lucifer smiled wildly, “Oh, that’s wonderful! I do have a soft spot for the LGBTQ community, given how they have been unjustly discriminated against and prosecuted for centuries, often in the name of faith, particularly misinterpreting David and Jonathan’s monogamous relationship as ‘frienship’ while taking Leviticus’ obvious homophobia at face value…” he stopped when Chloe reached to gently grab his forearm in order to silence him, though she was unable to hold back her fond smile.

“There is a distinct possibility for a portion of your patrons to be in danger, Lucifer, so we are here to warn you, but also to talk to you, because the attackers decided not to go for LA’s top club and instead first attacked LA’s number three.”

“Which club is that?” asked Lucifer.

While Special Agent Simmons gave the answer, Chloe suddenly realized what happened and immediately shared, “ _Epiphany_ is on the other side of town and _Rockabye_ is only two blocks from here. They’re avoiding _you_.”

“Of course they are, Detective,” confirmed Lucifer, surprised to hear her say it as if she only realized that now. “Who’d want to mess with the devil?”

“It’s not just that,” countered Dan with an eyeroll. “Simmons, you told us on our way here that you expect this to be a Christian splinter group, a cult dedicated to harm the LGBTQ community. What if they don’t approach Lux because they actually believe Morningstar is the devil-“ he ignored Lucifer’s indignant ‘ _I am the devil!’_ and continued, “and they wanted to go after the small sinners first before they come for Lux?”

Chloe felt a shiver run down her spine. Lucifer may be annoying to an infuriating degree, but this made sense and, while she had little fondness for this place, it was obvious just how much its owner loved it. She still remembered Delilah and Lucifer’s genuine grief over her death. She had no wish to let another tragedy strike this place.

Lucifer’s expression was stony, his eyes cold as ice and another shiver, this time mixed with a whisper of fear, coursed through her.

“Well, I’d like to see them try.”

“We are not sure, what they are capable of,” said Bianchi who had silently watched the scene unfold. “For all we know, they might try to burn the place down.”

The nightclub owner’s eyes met Bianchi’s.

“Do you speak Italian, Special Agent Bianchi?”

“Yes, all my family does. _Nonna_ would not have it otherwise.”

“Have you ever read La Divina Commedia? The Divine comedy? Particularly Dante’s Purgatory and Dante’s Inferno? It’s complete bullshit for the most part, I assure you, and don’t get me started on his representation of me, by the way, but at least he blamed the sinners for their own misdeeds and did not bring up the usual ‘the devil made me do it’ excuse… I digress. Do you remember how he described the Seventh Circle of Hell, which represents violence? How it was divided in three rings consisting of the house murderes in the outer, suicides in the middle and blasphemers and sodomites in the inner circle? Nonsense, all of it, but the description of the Centaurs tormenting souls by dipping them into Phlegethon, a river of boiling blood, is quite vivid:

 _'Chè s’approccia_  
_la riviera del sangue in la qual bolle  
_ _qual che per vïolenza in altrui noccia'_

or

'The stream of blood is drawing near to us,  
wherein boils who by violence harms others.'

I am not a violent creature, Special Agent Bianchi, but rest be assured that I will not abide it inside my club or near it. Bringing fire to the door of my club is not particularly wise. It tends not to burn the way it normally would.”

Silence followed that statement. Bianchi shivered.

“ _Lei parla italiano, Signore Stella Del Mattino?”_ The question made Lucifer grin.

_“Parlo tutte le lingue, Signore Bianchi.”_

“Right,” exhaled Bianchi. “Look, we’re keeping this investigation under tight wraps. We don’t want to cause panic in the LGBTQ community.”

“So you keep this vital piece of information from them because you fear their panic, ignoring the fact you’re endangering them by doing so. They should at least know to be careful. I don’t fear for the safety of my patrons in this club, but Lux is far from the only place they go to.”

“Mr. Morningstar, I see how important their wellbeing is to you, and I highly commend you for that, but alarming the organization now that we have just made significant progress for the first time since these attacks started could be even more dangerous for them.” Special Agent Simmons’s tone calm yet urgent, positively imploring Lucifer to think about this.

“I see,” replied Lucifer. What he did not say was whether or not he would comply. “Excuse me, it is time to play my set. You are welcome to stay and chat some more after this, but I also have my duties to perform.”

They followed him out and he led them to the bar before he made his way to the piano.

The crowd parted to give him access. Once he sat down, a sudden quiet engulfed the club even before the music was turned down.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lucifer greeted his patrons, voice silky and sensual. “Welcome to Lux. I hope you’re all having a great time.” Predictably, the entire room cheered, but something about this had to be unusual, because some of the dancers cocked their heads in confusion. “Usually, I choose a theme, play a few songs and let you go back to spend your evening as you desire, but tonight, the songs I play will be dedicated to _people_ rather than a theme.” As he spoke, his fingers started to fly across the keyboard with ease and Chloe felt herself relax. If in the office, tension could have been cut with a knife when Lucifer quoted Dante’s Inferno, he seemed at peace the second his hands touched the first key.

The first piece was a piano version of Cher’s Believe. He did not sing the lyrics, but somehow managed to get the entire club invested, some singing along. That was obviously a planned move because the second song was YMCA and the entire club became involved in a, for a high-end club full of overly attractive socialites remarkably adorable, interpretation of the song, characteristic dance moves included. Simmons leaned in and merely said, “Subtle he is not, Detective Decker.”

This time the transition was a melody that Chloe did not recognize, but it settled down the movement and people started sitting down, desperate to know what he would bring next. It was quite striking to witness how Lucifer appeared to play the crowd as effortlessly as the piano.

 _Staring all alone_  
_And your grace and style_  
_Cut me to the bone_

Elton’s Song.

Chloe’s heart ached from the sheer emotion in Lucifer’s voice. His eyes wandered over the crowd. Cindy Lauper’s True Colors came next, just as beautiful as all of the songs before that. Looking around, she saw couples – same-sex and otherwise – holding hands and hers itched to grasp Dan’s in return.

What followed next was not really suprising given the theme of the set.

 _Somewhere over the rainbow_  
_Way up high_  
_And the dreams that you dream of_  
_Once in a lullaby_

Getting enough oxygen suddenly seem like a difficult task. Logically, Chloe knew that he was making a point, using a song deeply connected to the issue at hand to remind people of its importance. But there was something else in his tone, something about clouds and rainbows, a longing, not for something that was out of reach but for something he could no longer have.

 _Someday, I wish upon a star_  
_Wake up where the clouds are far behind me_  
_Where trouble melts like lemon drops_  
_High above the chimney top_  
_That's where you'll find me_

The homicide detective closed her eyes. His voice became just another instrument in an orchestra of sounds and feelings. Though there was a roof above their heads, Chloe could see an open sky and the stars were brighter than the city of Los Angeles would usually allow. Tears were in her eyes and she did not wish to wipe them away.

 _Oh, somewhere over the rainbow_  
_Way up high_  
_And the dreams that you dare to_  
_Why oh, why can't I?_

The song came to a close. Into the silence, Lucifer spoke, “Take care of each other, please. Life’s so fragile and so precious. We shouldn’t gamble it away.”

A mischievous smile.

“Don’t let that keep you from having a good night.”

That was probably the cue to return to business as usual, but everyone, including Lux’ staff, was frozen in place.

“Please,” a woman in a green dress sitting at one of the tables near the piano spoke up. “Mr. Morningstar, please sing another one about...” She did not elaborate, just helplessly made an all-encompassing movement with her hand. “This.”

He seemed to understand without further prompting. His eyes turned back to the piano. A sound escaped him that spoke of pain.

“Why not? It’s not like they’ll listen.” It was a simple comment to himself, but because it was so quiet, the voice carried. To make sure everybody heard him, he spoke up, “The idea’s the same, so bear with me.”

 _Morning has broken like the first morning_  
_Blackbird has spoken like the first bird_  
_Praise for the singing_  
_Praise for the morning_  
_Praise for them springing fresh from the world_

 _Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven_  
_Like the first dewfall on the first grass_  
_Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden_  
_Sprung in completeness where his feet pass_

 _Mine is the sunlight_  
_Mine is the morning_  
_Born of the one light Eden saw play_  
_Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning_  
_God's recreation of the new day_

It was magical. Lucifer’s voice changed slightly and Chloe could swear that he was engulfed in a ball of pure light. Just as he sung the last line of the song, people shifted to applaud, but the man continued, and all settled down. At first she thought he simply repeated part of the song, but then realized he had made some changes.

 _Mine is the sunlight  
Mine is the morning  
Bringing the one light Eden saw play  
Blessed be my old friends, blessed be the queer folk  
__You’re God's creation loved ev’ry day_  

Every person in the room seemed frozen in place after the last key was pressed. Some were crying silently, nobody moved. The silence was not oppressive or awkward, just stunned. It was suddenly broken when someone turned on the music and people slowly woke from their stupor. It was a harsh wakeup call for her too and she noticed that Dan and the two FBI agents were also slowly coming out of their funk. She looked to Lucifer who had gingerly closed the piano and made his way back to them. He did not look happy or relaxed. His assistant(?)/partner(?)/occasional lover(?) Mazikeen came up to him from the side, looking both pissed and surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dante's Inferno references:
> 
> https://historylists.org/art/9-circles-of-hell-dantes-inferno.html  
> http://www.ebooksbrasil.org/adobeebook/ladivinacommedia.pdf  
> https://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/alighieri-the-divine-comedy-vol-1-inferno-english-trans


	3. The Devil's Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually, music helped to calm his thoughts in a way nothing else could. This time, it did not work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your support. 
> 
> Special thanks to SilverWolf7 for the amazing conversations and the plot bunnies... The plot bunnies are becoming a problem.

Mazikeen’s eyes blazed; her anger was palpable. Lucifer did not know whether to be excited, annoyed or just a tiny bit frightened. She was his dearest friend but a true force of nature if scorned. Thankfully, he knew he could trust her with his life and soul. Just now, she had the presence of mind to turn on the music to distract his patrons and human staff from looking too much into his…well.

“Ever since when do you go about blessing…humans?” she hissed, cutting right to the heart of the matter like no one else could. Her voice was low enough so that only he could hear her when they slowly approached the detective, her human appendix and the federal agents.

“I didn’t,” contradicted Lucifer clamly. “Not really. I never have.” Painful memories suddenly threatened to drown him. He had done many things in his father’s name, but blessing humans? “That was never my task. You forget: I Fell after Adam and Eve were banned from Paradise. There were no humans around to bless.” He took a deep breath dispelling the pain. “The detective and her merrymen brought some bad news to our doorstep. I decided to let my patrons know that I won’t abandon them.”

“What kind of bad news?” asked Maze, eyes now smoldering like hot coal. Figuratively speaking, of course. It seemed he was not the only one that felt protective of Lux. That did not take away the fact that, unlike him, she was not entirely happy here on Earth. She needed a task, but she would have to branch out on her own. He would not force his will upon her. The main reason he did not tell her to find her own way was entirely selfish, however: he did not want to lose her. If she left, he would not be able to stand the loneliness, which was and would always be his own personal hell.

“Hate crimes,” Lucifer answered her question instead of letting her know what he was thinking about.

“Oh, yummy,” she smiled with her teeth bared. “I haven’t tortured that particular brand of asshole in a long time. What kind?”

This time, Lucifer could not help but return her grin, “Oh, my dear Mazikeen, your favorite: the religious extremist type.”

“Really?” she smiled. “Well, I guess now the blessing makes sense. Irony and all that.”

“That was not a blessing. You can’t bless anyone without Dad’s stamp of approval,” he contradicted.

“Lucifer, you were glowing.”

Something about the way she said that made him look at her with a quizzical expression.

“Are you sure we’re not talking about my radiating personality? I don’t glow, Maze, not anymore. The Lightbringer burned out long ago. Quite literally, in fact.”

She obviously had something else to add, but they were standing in front of the detectives and the federal agents.

“Shall we take this to my actual office?” he smiled.

“Yes, please,” said Agent Bianchi immediately rising from his seat.

“Oh, they all say that at some point,” Lucifer grinned mischieviously. The reply to that was just the hint of a blush and heat in the federal agent’s eyes. Oh, this was going to be fun! Both men were happily married – he could see that not only from the rings on their fingers, but from the very way they were unmoved by the beautiful people partying in this room – and not really into men all that much, but that did not make them immune to Lucifer (unlike the detective for some unfathomable reason). Bianchi in particular was responsive, which made the former Lord of Hell wonder if he should ask the man to invite his wife to Lux at some point.

He had spent some of his most precious nights in LA with married couples that were sure enough in their love and relationship to invite a third party – not swingers… not that there was anything wrong with that either; Lucifer hardly ever found any fault with any kink, as long as one person’s desire did not encroach on that of another; swingers looked for another couple and not for someone to join the fun – like Laura and Simon. Now that was a lovely couple that decided four years ago to spend their tenth wedding anniversary with him, and kept up the tradition ever since, a gesture he very much appreciated. They visited Lux monthly whenever their busy schedule allowed. They would always talk about everything from politics to religion to their jobs, sometimes at the bar or at a table, sometimes in his penthouse cuddled on the bed or the couch, but sex was only on the table for their anniversary; he enjoyed their arrangement, though it confused him to no end (why come to him if you did not want to have sex? That was after all the only thing he invariably excelled at. Cuddling? Not exactly his area of expertise). He would not want to replicate that affair with Bianchi and his wife; he never did no matter how brief his connections; they always meant something and having the same arrangement with another person or couple cheapened the worth of the desires of everyone involved. His connections were all special and unique in their own way, though he had to admit that he did favor what he had with Laura and Simon over most other liaisons, which is why arranging something similar with Bianchi and his wife was out of the question.

A nice tumble in the sheets sounded wonderful, however, and Bianchi certainly seemed tempted. It would not take much…

“Raphael,” said Simmons, effectively severing their connection and Lucifer’s jaw clenched a bit.

The name would be a problem. Generally, he was good at separating his siblings’ names from his lovers – thankfully, Mum and Dad were absolutely terrible at namegiving and humans rarely used his siblings’ names to baptize their spawn, but he could count on one hand the number of Raphaels, Michaels and Gabriels he had bedded in his time on Earth, always making sure to never call his lovers by their given names.

He could always call Bianchi by the Italian version ‘Raffaello’ or ‘Raffaele’. That would work.

Probably.

As he led them to his office, Maze close by but not actually joining, he forced his thoughts to focus on something other than painful memories of the brothers he had once loved so dearly and who had either remained silent when Dad cast him out, held a sword to his throat, or were simply too busy playing God’s messenger to humans to even care.

He would always love Raphael, missed the fierce healer even after millennia of silence. Next to Amenadiel, he was the only brother he had ever truly looked up to.

On the other hand, it was probably better if Michael and Lucifer were never trapped in the same room ever again. Gabriel, well, Lucifer simply wondered if his brother ever noticed that he was gone.

“Is it possible to continue this conversation in private, Mr. Morningstar?” asked Special Agent Simmons.

“Whatever you tell me, you might as well tell Mazikeen. I do not keep secrets from her. She’s my most trusted friend and we share everything, even lovers on occasion.” Shameless flirting and teasing notwithstanding, they did not sleep with each other. He loved Maze, but he did not think of her that way. It would cross a line, not because of a demon sleeping with a fallen angel, but because he was her lord; no matter how irreverent she was he did not have sex with those under his care. “She’s my bodyguard, my friend and she’s family. If she wants to, she can stay.”

Maze was surprised, but her face was a seemingly indifferent mask. The Hellfire that made her burned in the depth of her eyes. It warmed the devil’s soul and while Lucifer never felt like hell was his home, a tiny part of him missed the familiarity of … whatever hell was to him. He actually missed the pups; Castor and Pollux had to be wondering where he was.

He was being uncharacteristically maudlin today, the devil noted. The music had not brought the expected relief to his disquiet and anger, mostly because he worried about the safety of his patrons and because he had apparently taken it a bit far with his protection.

Well, at least Amenadiel would not run out of things to shout at him for.


	4. Dealing with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The FBI agents offer a deal. The devil is not impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support!

Alright, so the arrogant bastard could play the piano. Dan was not, should not be, surprised. For all that Lux was a nightclub, it was also listed as a ‘piano bar’ in most tourist guides and, according to Dan’s thorough research of the place, there was more than one credible review that raved about how ‘Lux deserves its name for the almost sinfully beautiful way its owner, Lucifer Morningstar, gifts his patrons with music; an enlightning experience’, but still, it was another thing to witness it. It made you feel special, like listening to something that should be played in a church while, at the same time, giving the impression that it was the complete opposite.

Morningstar truly was a walking and talking contradiction.

That alone was already surprising, because initially the detective had thought him to be a simple-minded man with a one-track mind, who tried to sleep his way through the city and likely got his money thanks to shady business deals or because of a rich daddy. He certainly behaved like a rich boy who did not know the meaning of the word ‘hardship’. While the latter was still true – he was likely born with a silver spoon in his mouth and more than a little used to get his own way – nobody could play music like that without at least calling some sort of soul his own.

Dan had not known that anyone could ever top Judy Garland in any rendition of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ , but there it was. The sheer emotion in the man’s voice had made him look ancient and so much more approachable than ever before. Then came _Morning Has Broken_ to which Dan had not even known the full lyrics, but he knew that last bit was not part of the song. He shivered.

Morningstar should thank his lucky stars for the dangerous presence that was Miss Mazikeen Smith. Dan could not stand the guy and he wanted to listen to him play the piano all night. He did not want to know what went on in the heads of his adoring patrons. Unbelievingly, for all that Morningstar should revel in the attention, it seemed like the man was utterly oblivious to the effect he had on his clientele in contrast to Miss Smith who was very much aware of it.

The LAPD detective was also quite sure that Morningstar deliberately fried Bianchi’s brain. In the short time Dan knew him, he had learned that the man was a grounded, calm, experienced FBI agent, but if Simmons had not interfered, Dan would have placed a bet that Bianchi would have ended up in the nightclub owner’s bedroom.

_Santa Madre de Dios!_

Now the man’s office was smaller than the room they were in before, but there was an adjacent, spacious meeting room with comfy chairs. Miss Smith immediately flopped down into the chair next to what was obviously Morningstar’s seat. The man pulled out a chair for Chloe (causing Dan to roll his eyes exasperately) before he proceeded to do the same for Simmons, Bianchi and, to Dan’s surprise, him.

Once they were all seated, he sat down as well but not before pouring himself yet another glass of liquor he had pulled from some shelf. That guy had to have an amazing liver. He did not even seem slightly drunk.

“Could you please repeat to Maze what you told me, Detective?”

By the end of Chloe’s explanation, Miss Smith looked disgusted.

“People are being attacked and brutally killed because of whom they fuck?” she asked incredulously. “And I thought crimes of passion and murder out of greed were stupid.”

That made Morningstar smile. It was cold and edgy and made Dan very nervous.

“Justice will be served, Maze.” The way he said it made it sound like absolute fact, and it seemed to appease his – what did he call her again? – friend.

“A question I was dreading to ask earlier, but now seems inevitable: the LA victims. How many and do you know whether they ever came to Lux?”

“I cannot answer the second question, but the victims’ names are-” began Simmons and he hesitated. “Excuse me, two of my colleagues and two other LAPD detectives are taking care of that part of the investigation, so I don’t have the information ready.” He quickly read through his notes. “Ah, here they are: John Richards and Sean Peters.”

A sharp exhale had Dan look at the nightclub owner.

“Sean Peters. Barkeeper at _Rockabye_? On the shorter side, blonde hair, greenish, soulful eyes?”

While Dan could not remember the man’s eyes, the rest of the description was spot on.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” said Chloe sympathetically.

The pained, hollow expression was hard to bear.

“He was a true gentleman in every sense of the word. Very gentle, a very sweet lover,” was the only reply. He blinked and briefly looked away.

“How long were you together?” asked Bianchi.

“Oh, we just had one night. April 4, 2013. He had a night out and Lux is open to all LA club personnel, be it bouncers, barkeepers, janitors. They’re all welcome. Anyway, we had sex, and because he was a gentleman, he made sure to come by every now and then after our hookup, but our encounter was never repeated. He started dating Carl Miller, one of the bouncers at the _Epiphany_ a few months later. The last time they visited Lux was…” a brief moment of silence, “eighty-two days ago. They probably would have come by soon. Has Carl already been informed?”

“Not as far as…” Simmons began, but Chloe asked the question that burned on Dan’s tongue.

“Wait, you remember his last visit here? That does not sound like a one-night stand to me,” she said doubtfully. Miss Smith… Maze snorted.

“Lucifer doesn’t forget, Decker, and he doesn’t lie either.”

“I’m just saying that with the number of… It is surprising that you would keep track of your lovers like that.”

“If by keeping track you mean that a few of them return to Lux and tell me what they’re doing these days, then I certainly do. I do not run after people. What they do with their lives after we meet, is up to them,” Lucifer replied coolly.

“You followed me around,” Chloe protested.

“Because you were investigating Delilah’s murder and because you are a puzzle to me.”

“Because I don’t fall for your weird desire mojo.”

“Precisely,” Lucifer smiled, his eyes glimmering with amusement before the gravity of the situation hit him again. “Does Carl know that his partner of two-and-a-half years and fiancé was murdered in cold blood because they did not represent the correct gender combination?”

“Not as far as we know,” replied Simmons. “What are you doing?” He asked when Morningstar walked up to a phone and started dialing a number. It seemed unfathomable that a high-end club owner in this day and age did not possess a smartphone.

“What do you think I’m doing? I am calling Carl. Poor soul must be out of his mind with worry.”

“You know the phone number of your former one-off lover’s current partner by heart?”

“Really, are you people deaf?” Now he just sounded irritated. “I don’t forget. Though sometimes I wish I could. Carl? This is Lucifer, listen…” A breath. “Oh, darling, I wish I could, but I can’t. Why don’t you come by Lux? I’ll have Mark pick you up. The police is here. They have a fair idea of what happened.” Another pause as he listened to the other side. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry. Mark will be at your place in roughly twenty minutes. See you in forty minutes. Try not to think too much.” He hung up the phone, leaving them all speechless except for Maze who seemed utterly untouched about the whole scene.

“Have you lost your mind?” Chloe shouted. “You can’t just call the family of a victim over the phone like that. You are part of this investigation now. We could arrest you for betraying details of a running murder investigation.”

Unsurprisingly, the nightclub owner ignored her and proceeded to make a phone call to ‘Mark’ whom he instructed to get Mr. Miller to Lux. Apparently, he knew the man’s exact home address as well. If he told the truth, and his memory really was that good, Dan was unsure whether to be scared, weirded out or both.

“Have you listened to me?” Chloe hissed.

“I would not have to listen to you if the LAPD had done its job and called him. Carl wasn’t some temporary fling; he was the love of Sean’s life! If Carl were ‘Carol’, would that hypothetical woman already know? Would she?” Morningstar was furious and, as much as Dan wanted to deny it, he knew Detectives Martin and McEnroe; he had heard them make more than one controversial joke in the locker room. Was it possible they would sacrifice their integrity because they did not view that relationship as equal? Would that hypothetical woman have already been informed?

He did not know for certain and it irked him that he did not know.

“Perhaps, we should all settle down,” said Bianchi. “This is all very unfortunate, but Mr. Morningstar is raising a good point. Mr. Miller should have been informed already.”

Chloe gently grabbed the nightclub owner’s hand, “We’re sorry, Lucifer. You are right: It should not have happened like this. So let’s do this right. We will tell Mr. Miller what happened and tomorrow, we’ll start looking for those who committed these crimes and we won’t stop until we find them. You have my word.”

That seemed to effectively calm the agitated man and he smiled sadly, “And who, precisely, does ‘we’ entail?”

“If you can keep your head together, we would be glad to have you on this case, Mr. Morningstar,” assured Simmons.

“I think he’s just clearly shown that he can’t,” Dan protested. Bad enough that Chloe was willing to work with the guy, but he had assumed that the FBI just wanted to talk to him to see how his security worked and to warn him, but not to have Morningstar become a part of the investigation. Ice-cold, dark eyes met his. Together with the smile, Dan had the sudden urge to cross himself; something he had not felt the need to do in… ever, really.

“What would ‘being on this case’ mean, Agent Simmons?”

Dan rolled his eyes, “Great, now he’s being picky.”

Bianchi ignored the comment and continued for his partner, “First, it will be an exchange of information. You may think that you claiming to be the devil is enough to scare that organization off for the near future, but we don’t know for sure, so we would like to see how your security system works. Second, you would be our door to LA’s nightlife. From what Lieutenant Monroe told us, we could gather that everbody knows the name Lucifer Morningstar, and that can open doors for this investigation that would otherwise remain firmly locked. In return, we will make sure to keep you informed, so that you can take proper precautions for your staff, your patrons and yourself.”

Morningstar just laughed, “Are you kidding me? Why on Earth would I take a deal that gives you all the cards?”

Automatically, Bianchi and Simmons looked to Chloe. It was obvious that her recent cases with the man had her dubbed as ‘difficult club owner handler’. Chloe noticed too and tried to soothe ruffled feathers, “Look, Lucifer. This is a high-profile case that spans the entire country. We cannot afford having an independent party working on this case. This is the only deal we can offer. Do you understand?”

“Of course I do, Detective,” Morningstar smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “But it is not in the devil’s nature to accept bad deals. You are free to go. I will protect my people my way.”

“Are you threatening to become a vigilante, Morningstar?” Dan asked pointedly, to which the man in question just scoffed.

“Oh please, you’re insulting me. Vigilantes don’t have the authority to punish wrongdoers. They’re amateurs trying to right perceived wrongs that are not properly dealt with by the actual authorities.”

“And that does not describe you to the very last detail how?” Chloe asked, exasperated.

“I’m not an amateur, Detective,” was the cold reply. “Don’t ever confuse me as such.”

“What’s got you so wound up, Lucifer?” asked Chloe, her voice changing from annoyance to actual worry.

“That organization is threatening my staff and my patrons, Detective,” Morningstar answered plainly. “Essentially, it is threatening Lux, my home, quite possibly the only real home I ever had. What would you do if someone threatened your entire world and all you get from the people whose job it is to stop that from happening is that they’re using your home as both fortress and/or bait while in return giving you no more than the information they deem necessary to share?”

Putting it that way not only made them sound like assholes, but it also sounded like a really crappy deal. Dan would not take it, nobody would.

Least of all the person that calls himself the devil.

The way he had said ‘your entire world’ immediately made him think of Trixie and, judging by Chloe’s facial expression, so did she.

“Okay,” said Chloe soothingly. “Okay, I understand. That deal is not fair, but if you interfere with this investigation…”

“You’ll arrest me, I know, Detective. Go right ahead,” he lifted his hands. “But that will not bring you a single step closer to solving this case.”

“What do you want, Mr. Morningstar?” asked Simmons.

“Full access to this case. If we are dealing with a cult, chances are that I know them. Violent cults have their own little section in hell. Particularly the ones that bring children into the mix; and they usually do. Even if the cult formed after I came to LA, chances are they emerged from another that I know of.”

“Mr. Morningstar, you don’t have the credentials or the necessary expertise to…”

“Alright, let’s stick to American cults because I really don’t have the patience for this: _Teens for Christ_ , later dubbed _Children of God_ , founded by David Berg in 1968. Sick bastard who was into children. Died in 1994; idiot was quite shocked to end up in my domain; no guilt, but he crumbled so quickly it was pathetic. I’m not going to mention Charles Manson, everybody knows about him, especially anyone who watches _Criminal Minds_. Another example is _The Second Coming_ , an extremist group that tried to be a bit forceful in their attempt to bring about the Rapture in 1993. A more current one is NXIVM. Established in 1998, really into sex trafficking. I do hope the FBI is involved in that one, because the devil cannot do all the hard work by himself, especially since I’m currently not in hell. There are thousands, but let me tell you a few that might be of interest: _Black Cross_ , nasty little group but too small to pull this off, _The Witch Hammer_ , founded centuries ago but never really vanished. They did their fair share to make the situation in Salem escalate. _Justice of Michael_ , very violent, definitely not fans of homosexuality; judgy too, so they’re very aptly named. _Noah’s Flock_ , mostly made up of idiots but they do believe that everybody failing to join them will go down in another flood. _Divine Judgment,_ they…”

“Hold up!” interrupt Simmons, his eyes wide. “How could you possibly know anything about them?”

“Hitting a nerve, Agent Simmons? In 2004, one of the cult’s lieutenants, Roger... Peterson.” He looked to Maze, who nodded slowly. “Horrible creature, tormented girls for the fun of it, no ounce of regret. He was killed by Sierra Foster, young girl, not even in her twenties. He had hurt her for years until it was too much and she… killed him, but could not live with the guilt of having taken a life.” He looked quite regretful. “We tried getting her out, but…” For the first time since Dan met Maze, there was was something like actual compassion in her eyes. Morningstar just looked sad. “It’s what it is. Anyway, that’s when I heard about that cult for the first time.”

“Are you MI6? Is that why there are no records of you before you came to LA? Is that how you know of a cult like _Divine Judgment-_ “

“Would a former MI6 member keep up an English accent and open up a nightclub in LA? No, I’m not MI6. However, have I shown you that my credentials are valid or do you want me to cite you every holy book in the history of mankind because I’m telling you that my Hindu is quite rusty. If this is a religious cult, I should be part of the investigation, because I guarantee you that there is no one currently residing on this planet that knows more about religious nuts than I do.”

He said it with so much confidence, Dan almost believed him.

“You’re making a valid point,” Simmons agreed. “How about you come to the LAPD precinct tomorrow morning? Our expert on religious cults will have arrived by then and he’ll make sure you’re not conning us.”

“I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References for Children of God and Charles Manson:  
> \- https://www.msn.com/en-in/news/other/20-dangerous-cults-in-recent-history/ss-BBHQo4T#image=4  
> \- Wikipedia  
> I made up the rest except for NXIVM (wikipedia).


	5. Mirror to the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie needs to choose a song for school. Thankfully, her favorite uncle is there to help (not that Lucifer agreed to being her honorary uncle, but she was persistent).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys. Music has definitely become a major theme in this story, my apologies...

Still half-asleep, Chloe made breakfast for her daughter. Their trip to Lux had taken a lot longer than expected last night and had ended in a death notification. It never came easy and was a difficult part of her job. That did not take away the fact that she was good at it, probably because she had been on the other side of that conversation. She was so good at it, in fact, that even as a rookie, she had been asked to make quite a few death notifications in place of a more experienced officer.

Last night had been no different. Dan followed her lead and even Special Agents Simmons and Bianchi referred to her. Lucifer, who was usually the worst possible person to have around during a death notification because he could act quite callously, had been heaven-sent (Did this count as a pun or its opposite? He claimed to be the devil after all.). He had greeted Mr. Miller and gently led him into the office; he had not touched the man in any way or form, but his presence seemed to have a calming effect. That did not stop Mr. Miller from completely breaking down when he heard about the violent way Sean Peters was murdered.

_“He was what? Who’d…Who’d hurt him? Sean was the gentlest soul on the planet. You know that, Lucifer, don’t you?” Desperately, Mr. Miller looked to the only familiar face in the room. Lucifer’s expression was serious and grave, but he nodded._

_“We have reason to believe that this was a hate crime, Mr. Miller,” said Chloe gently._

_“Hate crime, but why would… Because he’s gay? What happened? When? I don’t understand.”_

They tried to only give the necessary details. They did not say anything about the dark alley from where the two bodies had been retrieved: both stripped naked, branded with the words ‘sodomite repent your sins’, positioned in a compromising if not degrading way. The whole case was gruesome, but the way the unknown suspects staged everything was positively nightmare inducing. Of course, she also had to ask about the other victim and whether Mr. Miller ever heard about John Richards.

_“Yes, he’s a friend of Sean’s: a bouncer at Rockabye. They’ve worked together for years.” This coincided with their own information on the other victim. “He was struggling with depression because his girlfriend left him without notice and Sean was worried about him…”_

_“Wait, hold up, Mr. Richards was not gay?”_

_“No, no. Straight as an arrow that one. Lovely guy, though.”_

_“How’s this possible?” asked Dan._

_“Misinterpretation?” suggested Lucifer. “I knew Sean. As I said, he is… was,” the change from present to past tense made Mr. Miller utter a desperate sob. “a gentleman, and extremely tactile. When he talked to you, he would gently grasp your forearm or the small of your back, but only if you were comfortable with such displays of affection. His actions were never sexual, but to an outsider wearing the glasses of a homophobic lunatic, I’m guessing that his actions could have been misinterpreted, especially if he was walking home a heartbroken friend at night.”_

It surprised Chloe that she could still be surprised by Lucifer’s insight. For all that he was unpredictable and absolutely clueless in some ways, he knew people to a frightening degree, especially when it came to the dark side of humanity. Lucifer then proceeded to offer his guestroom to Mr. Miller, telling him that he should not spend the rest of the night alone. The other man declined saying that he would rather go home. Lucifer then insisted on calling Mr. Miller’s sister, who picked him up less than twenty minutes later. Regardless, it had been 1 AM by the time Chloe was home.

“Have you done all your homework, monkey?” asked Chloe while desperately suppressing a yawn.

“Are you tired, mommy? When did you come home?”

“Far too late, baby, but you’re not answering my question.”

“I did all my homework except…” she hesitated and was saved by the bell.

“Daddy!” shouted Trixie as she ran over to hug her father. He looked as tired as Chloe felt. Their eyes met and they both had to chuckle.

“Ready to go back to the mines, Chloe?” asked Dan, exhausted.

“Yes, but only once our daughter tells us what kind of homework she neglected to finish.”

“We were supposed to pick a song we really, really liked, but I couldn’t think of one,” said Trixie. “I wanted to ask you, but you weren’t here.”

A pang of guilt went right through Chloe. She knew that their daughter was asked to make a lot of sacrifices for her parents’ dangerous jobs, but there was a difference between dealing with the fact that either of them might not come home because something went wrong or because they spent too much time on a case.

“Oh, monkey,” whispered Dan, looking as remorseful as she did. Music was not something they enganged in frequently. Chloe never listened to much music and neither did Dan. Yesterday at Lux was the first time she had listened to any music in weeks.

“What about…?” Before Dan could make a proper suggestion, there was a knock on the door, and Lucifer entered without waiting for a response.

“Good morning, Detective!” Once he saw Dan and Trixie, he extended his greeting by saying, “Detective Daniel, Child. Fabulous morning, isn’t it? Let’s go and punish the guilty.” His enthusiasm was both frustrating and endearing. Unlike Dan and Chloe, he seemed full of energy and ready to take on the world.

“Lucifer!” Trixie shouted and ran over to him to hug him. Just like every time these two met, he froze, flinched even, when her little body crashed into his. He lifted his arms as if trying to shield himself from her, and it continued to be the oddest reaction she ever witnessed anyone have to a child hugging an adult. He was by no means threatening or cruel to her; his reaction rather indicated that he was afraid of her.

“Hello there, little human,” the normally overconfident man said hesitantly, “shouldn’t you be in school?”

“We’re on our way to drop her off,” answered Chloe with a grin. Dan looked equal parts irritated by Lucifer’s reaction and mildly amused. It was a step up from the baseless jealousy he had displayed in the beginning of their acquaintance, but then, Dan’s attitude regarding Lucifer had shifted a little last night: he still did not like or trust him, but he had come to respect the man just a little. Like Chloe, he probably saw now that no matter how unusual and crazy the nightclub owner was, he was also an asset, particularly in this case. It took a religious nut to catch a religious nut.

“I still need a song,” protested Trixie after she let go off Lucifer.

“A song? Now that is not very specifc,” commented Lucifer, looking positively baffled. Trixie immediately proceeded to tell him of the assignment, which did not help his confusion.

“Why would you need to do that? That’s such an odd task to be charged with. Well, that’s not a problem, isn’t it, Child? Just pick a song and be done with it.”

“I can’t think of one,” muttered Trixie, unusually downtrodden.

“What do you mean you can’t think of one? There are thousands if not millions of songs out there. What was the last one you heard?”

“I don’t know,” said Trixie. “This weekend when I was at my _abuela_ ’s, we went to church, and we sang…”

“No,” Lucifer interrupted, shivering a bit at the thought of mass songs. “What was the last song you heard that made you wish it would never end?” He spoke very gently, treating her for the first time not only like a person but also like an adult. “What’s the song that you can hear right now if you close your eyes? There is a song. Everybody’s got at least one.”

Trixie did not follow his instructions, and said, “I really like the Olaf song! I think it’s funny.” She smiled.

Chloe was about to explain to Lucifer that this was from the movie _Frozen_ , but it turned out to be unnecessary because he replied, “I can see that, but outside of that specific scene, it’s not all that funny, is it?”

Trixie thought for a second before she agreed, “What about the _Let it Go_ song?”

“And how many of your friends will be using that very song?” asked Lucifer in return and Chloe really wanted to end this conversation, but she could not really bring herself to do so, because Trixie did not seem to mind; in fact, she seemed thrilled to have Lucifer’s attention.

“Probably a lot of them,” she shrugged and proceeded to say that she did not really want to do the _Let it Go_ song.

“So, what song do you want it to be?” asked Lucifer, genuinely interested. Trixie thought hard and then looked distressed, “I don’t know what it’s called!”

“Then hum it. I promise you, I’ll know it.”

“A few weeks ago, when I was at _Abuela_ ’s house, I was already in bed and she started watching a movie and there was that one song that keeps playing in my head and it makes me feel sad but also strong and I don’t know the text because I don’t know what the woman from the movie sings…”

“Hum it, little human. Whatever it is, I’ll know it.”

Timidly, she began humming a tune that seemed vaguely familiar, but Chloe had no idea what it could be. Dan shook his head slightly, as clueless as she was, but Lucifer smiled broadly.

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Child, wonderful choice…” And then he hummed alongside her. Chloe now also recognized the song, but merely remembered it was French  and that is was big a few years ago because of a movie, but she could not for the life of her remember the title of the song.

“Yes, that one! You know it?”

“Oh, do I ever. Édith Piaf’s version of _Je ne regrette rien_ is a masterpiece. She was a brilliant woman, an absolutely marvelous star.” His eyes were bright and open, just like his smile. For a short moment, he looked both infinitely fragile and utterly unattainable.

“Can you sing it?”

“Not without a piano I can’t,” said Lucifer regretfully, but he took Chloe’s phone (where on Earth did he grab that from?), and quickly typed something into it. The sound of a rather old song echoed in her walls and though she had trouble understanding anything, the emotion that carried the tune was compellingly beautiful.

“I don’t know what it means,” said Trixie at the end of it. “It just seems important.”

Surprised, Lucifer exhaled before he chuckled softly.

“You’re very wise, little human, and you chose an outstanding song. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Do you know what it says?” she asked him, causing Lucifer to scoff a little.

“Yes, I do, but translating it won’t mean much to you. Not yet. I’m afraid it’s a song only grown-ups can truly appreciate. Nevertheless, I congratulate you for your fantastic taste in music and song.” He then turned and told both Chloe and Dan that he would meet them at the precinct.

Chloe was a bit surprised by his sudden departure, but did not think much of it. They decided that both Dan and Chloe should first bring Trixie to school and then go to the precinct together. It was remarkably peaceful and it reminded Chloe of a time when things were easier.

“So, I might’ve been a bit… quick to judge Morningstar,” began Dan once they dropped off an extremely happy daughter. “I mean he’s still creepy and dangerous and god-awful when it comes to dealing with children and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him, but I can see now why you’ve worked with him. He’s… definitely more than your regular high-end club owner.”

“Oh yeah, what makes you think that?” Chloe grinned. She knew exactly what went on in Dan’s head.  Even without Lucifer going full-on magician on them last night; he was the definition of intensity. Still, she enjoyed Dan not judging her for working with Lucifer for once.

A few minutes later, exchanging pleasantries in a way they had been unable to for months, they arrived at the precinct. In the parking lot, they noticed that Lucifer was still sitting in his corvette. His eyes were closed and both of his hands seemed to be pressing invisible piano keys in the air. Stepping out of the car, they heard the faint sounds of _Je ne regrette rien_.

Lucifer’s eyes were closed.

“Detective Decker, Detective Douche,” Dan’s lips twitched with displeasure. “Are you ready for our first day of seeking justice for Sean and Dorothy’s other friends?”

Dan wanted to open his mouth, but Lucifer shushed him, “This is my favorite part.”

 _Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien_  
_Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal_  
_Tout ça m'est bien égal_  
_Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien_  
_Car ma vie, car mes joies_  
_Aujourd’hui ça commence avec toi_

Lucifer looked up to the sky with that same haunted and vulnerable expression she had witnessed earlier and Chloe could swear she saw tears glistening in his eyes.

“The voice of an angel,” whispered Lucifer. “But she was so painfully human, thorns and all, a true master of her craft. ‘ _Chaque chose imbécile tu fais dans la vie, vous payez._ ’ These were her last words.” Noticing their blank faces, he translated without prompting, “ _’You must pay for every stupid thing you do during the course of your life.’_ She didn’t write the song, but she most certainly embodied it.”

Shaking his head slightly, Lucifer rose from his corvette and elegantly stepped out. With one swift movement, he offered a phone to Dan.

“Thanks for lending it to me, Detective Daniel.”

Belatedly, Chloe realized that it was Dan’s phone.

“I did not lend you my phone,” Dan hissed angrily. “How did you even get that phone? It was in my car! My locked car!”

Ignoring the question, Lucifer merely said that Special Agents Bianchi and Simmons had to be waiting for them ( _‘It’s rude to keep two gentlemen waiting’_ ) and walked away.

“I retract every positive thing I said about this insufferable son of a bitch,” ranted Dan to Chloe who had a hard time keeping her amusement in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Lucifer and the FBI's expert on religion do not get along too well (nobody gets killed).


	6. The Devil and a Holy Man Meet at the LAPD Precinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was yet another murder last name and Lucifer is taking a trip down memory lane. It does not put him in the best mood to meet the FBI's religious expert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter before the Easter Weekend's over. Since I have to get back to work starting tomorrow, updates will come more slowly, but I do hope to keep up at least a weekly schedule, though I cannot guarantee it.
> 
> You've probably noticed the order of POV I've chosen: Dan-Chloe-Lucifer-Dan-Chloe-Lucifer... And so on. If you want to have another, drop me a line, I'll see if a) I can find that voice and b) if it fits with the story.

Entering the precinct, Lucifer beelined for Special Agents Bianchi and Simmons who were having a conversation with two federal agents and two LAPD officers. He had a vague memory of seeing the two LAPD detectives before at the precinct. The two FBI agents were both in their late thirties; one of them was a short chap with blond hair, blue eyes, just on the right side of ‘muscled’ with a fantastic ass. His face was all sharp angles and he was not what Hollywood would dub as particularly good-looking, but Lucifer liked what he saw. The other was a lady with long, dark hair and high cheekbones. Her posture indicated that she was trained in martial arts; she may not be as capable as Maze, but then really, what human was? She wore a well-fitting suit and, just like her partner, humans may not interpret her as classically beautiful, but Lucifer thought she looked stunning. Her brown eyes broadcasted her intelligence and her fierceness; Lucifer could not wait to coax a bit of playfulness out of her.

“Good morning, my dear federal agents. Why so serious?” asked the former Lord of Hell with a bright smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Morningstar,” responded Bianchi. “These are our colleagues, Special Agents Carol Harper and Miguel Martìnez.”

“Lovely,” said Lucifer as they shook hands. Both reacted exquisitely to his presence; Agent Harper took a step closer and this time, he could more than just guess her muscled frame. Oh, he would have to introduce her to Maze; he just knew that these two would get along fabulously. Martìnez’ grip was strong but not oppressive or dominating; it was always a pleasure meeting lads that did not automatically try to assert their dominance, that were confident without going all-out on their alpha male behavior. He was about to say something, but the detectives finally arrived as well and Agent Simmons introduced the newcomers to his colleagues.

“There has been another murder last night,” chimed in one of the Detectives, Carl Martin, if his vague memory of the unpleasant man was correct. “Again two men. They were found in the bathroom of the _Epiphany_ at 4 AM.” That explained why all of his human companions looked as though they could do with a double-shot espresso. “They were similarly put on display as our yesterday’s vics. This time, the unknown suspects staged the act of oral sex post-mortem. They were both killed by strangulation, though we have reason to believe that they were drugged beforehand. The new forensic scientist, Ella, is currently running the samples.”

“What was the message this time?” asked Detective Daniel.

“We’re still trying to translate it,” replied one of the detectives. “It wasn’t in English.”

“Show me the message,” ordered Lucifer. “It’s very likely that I’ll be able to translate it.”

Special Agent Simmons did not hesitate and handed him the photo. The display of the two bodies in the restroom was highly distasteful, but he actually hissed when he recognized what had been carved into both bodies.

“Genesis 19:24,” growled Lucifer; he could feel the Hellfire burn inside of him. “These ignorant cretins use the story of Sodom and Gomorrha to punish those they perceive go against the divine when it’s them who commit the monstrosities the cities were punished for.” He was trembling with anger.

These foolish, foolish humans.

If they wanted the full wrath of the divine, they could certainly have it. He may have stopped doing his father’s bidding, but in this case, he was more than willing to show these monsters that there was a reason why he was once known as God’s Poison. Amenadiel may be God’s Wrath, Michael may be God’s Iron Fist, the great warrior archangel, but when it came to finishing things, it was always up to Lucifer. He was, after all, the Punisher.

Memories of his young brothers rose unbidden; all of them frightened, about to be raped by the humans they were taught to love and protect, about to be brutalized fully aware that if they hurt these fragile mortals in return, they would go against their father’s wishes. They had prayed to the High Heavens for help, and their father’s response to it was making sure that Lucifer heard their pleas.

It had worked, too.

His brothers had not known him, born only a few hundred years after his Fall. He still remembered the look of awe in their eyes when they took in his appearance believing he was their father and he remembered the horror on their faces when the fire and brimstone destroyed the two cities while the heat and divine wrath revealed his nastier side. He had not tried to explain to his brothers that he was only following their father’s wishes. Even if he had, would they have ever believed the Prince of Lies?

A gentle hand touched his back right where his wings used to be and he flinched, phantom pain shooting through him like an old friend.

“Is everything okay, Lucifer?” the Detective asked, her expression open and worried.

“This is Hebrew: _‘Then the Lord rained down brimstone and fire on Sodom and Gomorrah-from the Lord out of the heavens.’_ We are dealing with true evil here, Detective,” he whispered meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “One that believes that it’s doing God’s work while committing heinous acts.”

Was this his fault? He rarely blamed himself for what humans did to each other out of their own free will, but his actions – at his father’s request or not – apparently contributed to the false impression that the divine did not feel favorable towards those who loved a member of their own gender or anyone that did not embody chaste, virtuous, (read: boring) heterosexuality. The thought made him feel quite nauseous.

“Ah, Father Thomas. I do hope your flight was somewhat pleasant.”

Bianchi’s voice brought him out of his reveries and he turned around only to look at a priest. Lucifer scoffed and rolled his eyes, mentally cursing his father, “Of course. Let me guess: this is the religious expert that is supposed to test my knowledge?”

“Everyone, this is Father Brian Thomas, one of two religious experts assigned to this case. Father Thomas, these are Detectives Chloe Decker, Daniel Espinoza, Carl Martin and Simon McEnroe. And this is-“ began Agent Simmons, but the priest crossed himself shakily and interrupted, “I know who that is, Agent Simmons. Why would you let evil walk freely among you?”

Lucifer just rolled his eyes, “Oh, spare me the lecture, padre, I am pretty sure we want the same thing.”

“Never in a thousand lifetimes would I want what you offer, you wolf in sheep’s clothing,” hissed the priest, crossing himself yet again as if it would make a difference. “You defiler of all that is good and divine, mockery of all that is holy.”

“Oh, thank you, it has been my goal to mock my family since the beginning of time,” Lucifer replied with a wide, harsh grin. “Dad takes himself far to seriously, wouldn’t you say? But then, why wouldn’t he? He hasn’t had to deal with true defiance since he cast me out. Really, you humans have to rebel more, but no, one little flood and you cower in the face of divine power, just like my siblings cowered when Dad shunned me.” He really was not in the mood for this. “Now, as much fun as it would be to pull you apart at the seams, I do believe that we should work together in order to find those that committed these vile, hateful crimes. You know who I am, so you know that I am an expert when it comes to religious cults, so please, could you confirm this to the nice federal agents?”

“He’s a demon,” said the priest, now seriously whipping out the holy water.

“Okay, now you’re mixing things up, padre. I am an angel, a fallen one, yes, but an angel nevertheless and that is what I’ll remain until the end of time. Demons? Completely different species. And they don’t possess people either. Your idiotic exorcisms are nothing but torture methods to terrorize people with psychiatric disorders and it is a disgrace that your church is still into these primitive rituals,” Lucifer growled. “But then you and your other fellow sheperds are always so _surprised_ when the gates of Heaven remain locked and you end up in my domain. Very much to the enjoyment of my demons, I assure you.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” interferred Detective Daniel by stepping in between them. The Detective’s ex had some balls on him alright; Lucifer knew that his aura was out and even the most oblivious of beings was aware of the danger he posed; he induced fear on a very primal level. That did not stop Detective Daniel from trying to deescalate the situation, not unlike the Detective would. His respect for the man increased quite significantly. “Father, I guarantee you that, while the man’s a pain in the as-neck and is really convincing at doing his whole devil shtick, he’s an important asset to this case. He easily identified this message to be a reference to Sodom and Gomorrha. Can you tell us what you know about that story?”


	7. Dancing with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Thomas provokes Lucifer who asks him what he desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter (when I should be asleep)... Sorry for not replying personally, but thank you so much for your kind replies.

“Surely you know the story of Sodom and Gomorrha, Detective Espinoza,” said the priest. “It is in the old testament, the story about two cities so sinful that they were destroyed by God’s holy wrath. The term ‘sodomy’ originates from that event. The citizens committed acts against nature and were punished for it.”

Silence followed that statement and Dan did not have to look at Morningstar to know that he, of all people, had to be furious.

“I think my father’s pitiful excuse of a servant has just sufficiently disqualified himself from being on a case that is meant to investigate violent crimes committed against a part of society that indulges in ‘acts against nature’ according to his own words, “ said the man who called himself the devil with remarkable tranquility.

“Of course you would approve of their vile behavior,” the priest hurled back. All of a sudden, Morningstar pushed the priest against a nearby table. How he had managed to evade him in the process, Dan could only guess.

“They nearly raped three of my brothers,” the club owner growled quietly. His eyes were wide and menacing, his voice an octave lower than before. “They deserved everything that happened to them. However, you claim that has something to do with your holy book speaking up against homosexual acts when it actually spoke against one of the most despicable crimes humans are capable of.”

“As if it wasn’t you that whispered into their ears, tempting them into committing these crimes,” Father Thomas hissed defiantly.

A sound of both anger and pain escaped from Morningstar’s lips.

“I have never made anyone do anything _ever_ ,” he roared. “Don’t you dare blame me for your sins.” Something in his voice shifted as he leaned forward, “What is your sin, padre? Tell me, what is your big secret? What do you desire?”

The other man’s eyes glazed over, “Agent Rose Fallon.”

The club owner smiled at that, “Beautiful?”

“Divine,” whispered Father Thomas almost feverishly. “She is a gift sent from heaven.”

“For you?” asked Morningstar, his eyes wide open and his smile ice-cold. Dan had no idea how the priest could not see that he angered the other man more and more with every word.

“Yes!” the man exclaimed. “Yes. For twenty years I have followed the rules laid out by God. I have followed the Ten Commandments and dedicated my life to the church. This is my reward.”

“Oh, I hate to break it to you, no, wait, I don’t, I enjoy putting your hypocrisy at full display, but here is the thing: there is no reward at the end of the tunnel, there is simply a lack of punishment. Eternal bliss, surely, no pain, a reunion with your loved ones perhaps, but there is no actual reward for good behavior. Do you have any idea for how long I followed my father’s bidding faithfully? Do you know what that loyalty was worth when I asked for something Dad wasn’t willing to give? Zero. Zilch. Zip. Nada. Absolutely nothing. Less than nothing, in fact, given the Fall and the agonizing punishment that followed. She’s not yours, padre, not unless she wants to be.”

“She tells me things,” whispered the priest, strangely unperturbed by the true agony visible on Morningstar’s face. “All her little secrets. She told me how-“ before he could say anything, a strong hand covered his mouth.

“Don’t,” ordered the owner of Lux coldly. “Don’t you dare tell me her desires. That is her right and hers alone. When they give you the privilege of telling you what they truly want, you covet it, you worship it and you remain silent about it. You do your best to comply and if you cannot, you’ll take their gift and respect it for what it is: a tiny bit of their soul, and as such, you will not sully it by projecting your own desires onto theirs.”

Dan logically knew that he should stop what was happening, but he found that he could not; could not look away from the angry, tall man who somehow bared his own heart as he talked about the privilege of hearing the secrets of other people, for accepting their desires and holding them sacred (however that word could be applied to the so-called devil).

“Lucifer,” said Chloe softly, and only then did Dan realize that the club owner was menacingly close to the priest. With a shuddering breath, Morningstar stepped back.

As if doused with cold water, Father Thomas – no, Thomas, that man did not deserve Dan’s respect – reeled back.

“He made me do it,” the man shouted, desperately pointing an accusing finger at Morningstar. “He made me tell these lies!”

“I don’t think so, father,” said Simmons, looking only slightly less furious than Morningstar. “I am not the most religious of people, but even I remember that according to Christian beliefs, God gave us humans free will. The devil, by definition, is a fallen angel, a rebel perhaps, an adversary, but he’s bound to the same laws as everybody else and he cannot make you do anything. On the first available flight, you fly back to San Francisco to relieve Dr. Foster who, in turn, will come here. I would prefer you off this case and the FBI entirely, but that’s not for me to decide, but you bet your ass that I will make sure you never get near Agent Fallon ever again. Martìnez, Harper, get him out of my sight before I forget myself.”

“You don’t understand! He made me do it, the devil made me do it!” shouted Thomas fanatically. He tried to resist, but he stood no chance against two trained FBI agents. Silence fell on the precinct after the doors closed.

“Who’s Agent Fallon?” asked Morningstar, his question aimed at nobody in particular. His anger had been replaced by something that could only be interpreted as resignation.

“She just finished her education at Quantico; a young girl, very competent, very religious, a bit like Miss Lopez, really,” replied Special Agent Bianchi.

“Miss Lopez?” asked Morningstar, confused.

“Oh,” breathed Chloe. “Our forensic scientist. You don’t know her yet, because she’s just started. Ella?” she called out.

Ella, who had apparently witnessed the catastrophic encounter between the so-called devil and a supposed holy man, came over.

“Ella Lopez, meet Lucifer Morningstar, he’s consulting us on a case. Lucifer, this is Ella Lopez, our new forensic scientist.”

Dan expected overt flirting and Morningstar’s usual tricks, but instead he tilted his head slightly, eyes on the cross and was completely blindsighted when the enthusiastic lady hugged him tightly. He froze completely.

“Nice to meet you,” said Ella with a smile and Dan had to suppress his laughter. Morningstar’s baffled reaction was priceless, especially in view of her genuine excitement.

“That is not the reaction I expected,” commented the club owner, adjusting his cufflinks and his suit nervously.

“Oh please, the devil gets a bad rep. Besides, I heard what you just said and it’s great to know that you believe in a more modern interpretation of the Sodom and Gomorrha story and that you reject the homophobic crap that people like to use as an excuse to be awful towards anyone who’s not exactly like them.”

“I would not say that I follow a more modern interpretation. I am simply telling what actually happened. Dad does not punish homosexuality,” protested Morningstar.

“Dad? Wait, dude, are you telling me you’re-“

“The devil, ye-”

“-a method actor? That’s weird, but hey, this is LA, right? So, you be you and good luck. Anyway, I have some more samples to process. Bye!”

Morningstar blinked.

“What just happened?”

“I think Ella just welcomed you to the team,” Chloe grinned, obviously finding the whole scene adorable, and Dan had to agree that seeing the usually suave playboy flounder about was quite hilarious.

“Am I on the team?” Morningstar countered, recovering quickly, his back straight as he primarily addressed the FBI agents.

“Well, you certainly know quite a bit and you just uncovered a truly disturbing part of Father Thomas’ nature that I was not privy to. Unless Dr. Foster says otherwise or you do something that disqualifies you or requires us to kick you to the curb, you’ll be a part of this team as an unofficial civilian consultant.”

“Splendid,” smiled the other man.

* * *

The rest of the day was very boring and depressing police work. Murders had been committed not just in LA but in all other cities, all leaving behind a similar message; all referred to the story of Sodom and Gomorrha, but they could not tell for sure whether this was a temporary MO, whether this was yet another escalation or whether this was the goal all along.

Morningstar was convinced that this was carefully planned and only the beginning.

“This group is convinced that Sodom and Gomorrah fell because of homosexual relationships. In their mind, all the major cities in the US will befall the same fate, and either they want to speed up their idea of justice or they want to prevent God’s wrath to encompass the country. It reminds me of the cult _Justice of Michael_ , but they were not nearly this big and they disappeared in the early 2000s after its leader died and was welcomed with open arms in my domain.”

Really, the guy would be pretty damn intuitive if he did not believe all that devil nonsense.

“What if another cult emerged from it?” suggested Bianchi. “I’ll try to get as much information as I can about this cult. Any other that I should look into in your opinion?”

“Not really,” muttered Morningstar. He had not been at all helpful when it came to going through stacks of paper; he was quite distracting, in fact, always asking questions, never sitting still, and his thought process was all over the place, but Dan would lie if he said that his knowledge was negligible and his presence unnecessary. However, Morningstar was currently shifting crime photos around in what seemed like a random fashion.

“Lucifer, will you stop fidgeting?” asked Chloe about as impatiently as Dan felt.

“One moment, Detective,” replied the remarkably polite playboy, still moving gruesome crime photos as if they were puzzle pieces. “Oh, bloody hell!”

“What is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: They are one step closer to solving the puzzle. In the evening, they return to Lux.


	8. What Does the Devil Desire?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer discovers or has an idea who is behind the attacks. After that, Chloe spends yet another evening at Lux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I made it. Long chapter this time. Thanks for your patience. I hope to keep up at least a weekly schedule regarding my updates, but you might have to remind me; next Wednesday (May 1), I'm watching Endgame and my muse might go nuts.

Chloe had a very foreboding feeling. Lucifer was many things, but he was rarely anything but exceedingly formal in his speech patterns, except when it came to sexual references and even then, he would usually go for formal, generally accepted definitions (or barely known ones) and hardly ever used crude expressions. Hearing him curse was a rather rude wakeup call.

They all took a step closer to see what he found. What she had assumed were randomly arranged crime photos had revealed a distinct pattern. The letters that had been carved into the back, side and front of the victims’ upper bodies (exclusively male victims this time, but that – apart from the nature of their sexuality, of course – was the only common feature), now clearly revealed something that reminded Chloe of a seal.

“What does this mean?” asked Dan, his eyebrows furrowed.

Lucifer did not reply, but instead grabbed a black marker and was just about to – Oh, Jesus Christ! – paint all over the evidence when Bianchi stalled his hand at the last minute.

“Stop! Evidence!” cried the FBI agent, clearly panicked. His hand around Lucifer’s wrist shook from an invisible strain while her unofficial partner did not even seem mildly stressed. He reacted to Biachni’s voice, however, drawn out of his moment of fierce concentration. His eyes found the now trembling hand around his wrist.

“Apologies, Special Agent Bianchi,” muttered Lucifer sincerely. Chloe could not actually see how his hand relaxed, but Bianchi suddenly looked less strained. “You were saying?”

“Evidence. You can’t just draw on it,” answered Bianchi, still staring at the hand he had stalled. Exasperated, Dan handed over a piece of paper merely saying, “You can use that.”

“I’m by no means an artist,” said Lucifer in an apologetic tone, but his hand was sure and technical, which was an odd thing to observe about a man that practically personified passion. He managed to draw what he wanted, but he did not look particularly happy, either by what he had drawn or his work.

“What’s this?” asked Dan taking a step closer to get a better look.

“This,” said Lucifer, using a red marker to highlight one part of his drawing, “is an ancient insignia that was once used to depict the archangel Michael; it was also used by the cult formed in his name. Do you recognize the other, Special Agent Simmons?”

“Shit, yes, I do. _Divine Judgment_ , it’s their seal. Seems like there is another cult to worry about after all.”

Lucifer nodded, deep in thought, “I think they even give us their new name…” He gestured at two loops on the bodies that he had not used for his drawing.

“ _Gomorrah_ and _Fall_ , the only two words not used for the seal.”

“ _Divine Judgment_ and _Justice of Michael_ became _Gomorrah’s Fall_. Is that what you think?” asked Bianchi. His face lost quite a bit of color.

“It looks like it,” replied Lucifer appearing almost uncharacteristically serious. “Either that or I could make the writing look like the devil’s triangle or something nonsensical like random geometric shapes, but that makes little sense in this context.”

Simmons rose from his seat, his phone out and he excused himself.

“Where are you going?” asked Lucifer as suspiciously as Chloe felt.

“I need to make a phone call.”

“I figured as much, but what aren’t you telling us?”

“I need to rely this information to my colleagues.”

“You’re lying to me,” countered the nightclub owner, sounding both disappointed and angry. “Why are you lying?”

Agent Simmons sighed, “Somebody in our team has… personal issues with this cult, and I make it a point not to blindside people, least of all my colleagues.”

“That I can get behind, Agent Simmons,” agreed Lucifer. He then glanced at the watch nearby and winced. “I should get going. Lux is opening soon. Some progress has been made today, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled almost goofily. He looked so proud and Chloe could not help but smile in the face of his enthusiasm. He had certainly been an invaluable asset today. If it had not been for him, they would be no closer to solving this.

“At least we now have evidence or hints regarding the identity of the organization that is behind the attacks,” confirmed Agent Bianchi. “But we still need to find who’s in that cult, where they are and what we can do to stop them.”

“Well, you start doing that,” Lucifer motioned impatiently. “And I make sure that my club is safe. You are more than welcome to come and relax. I’ll make sure that you have immediate access. Except for you, Detective, Brian already knows that you are a guest.”

“Mr. Morningstar, we have some more work to do here, but we would really like to inspect your security system. Everybody is on high alert, but this organization spans so widely across the nation, I think prevention is still something that needs to be seriously considered.”

Lucifer was already halfway out and he did not bother to turn around when he said, “Have drinks, work some more, whatever you desire, my dear federal agent.”

Just like that, he was gone.

Dan sighed, “Alright. What can you tell us about these cults?”

Simmons then gave them a rundown of the two cults, but it was essentially what Lucifer had already indicated. _Divine Judgment_ had around 200 followers in the early 2000s and practically disappeared after one of the cult’s lieutenants was killed in self-defense by one of the girls he had tortured. Apparently, they never really went away and were quite frequently monitored by the FBI because they were considered a potential threat to national security. _Justice of Michael_ was no longer under observation because after the death of its leader in 2004, they all but disintegrated. This was now called into question, of course, and Simmons made a few additional phone calls to make sure that all necessary information arrived together with Dr. Foster tomorrow morning. Suddenly, there was nothing to do. They did not know enough to actually do anything and all they could hope for was that the increased police presence nearby the clubs listed on the website would be enough to stop them from hurting more people.

Around 7 PM, they decided to go to Lux, not for fun and relaxation – really, Chloe just wanted to go home to Trixie – but because she too was curious about how Lux worked; for all that she knew its owner, she had no idea how he organized everything. It always seemed like strangely controlled chaos to her; sex everywhere, sexy dancers, LA’s most rich and beautiful drinking and partying. However, she had recently learned that Lucifer deeply cared for his people, and that they obviously liked him in return. If she was honest, she really wanted to know more.

This was ultimately why she agreed to come along after making a phonecall to her babysitter telling her that it would take longer than expected.

As promised, they were immediately led into the club and ushered to one of the more private-looking booths close to the stairs. Once more, she noticed the open layout of the club. There were barely any blind spots; it was fitting for a man who had not concept for privacy. Lucifer was strolling through his domain. He never seemed more at ease than in this dark, music-filled atmosphere surrounded by people who were having a great time. He occasionally stopped to talk to to his patrons with a flirtatious smile on his lips. He touched an arm here, leaned into someone’s side there, but to Chloe – and apparently his clientele that all too happily accepted his advances – she found he held himself apart from them, obviously not interested in more than a bit of harmless flirtation. She wondered if it had to do with their presence or because of everything that happened today before deciding that it had to be the latter given that her presence did not seem to cause any particular change regarding how he behaved in his club.

“When does he usually play his set?” asked Agent Simmons one of the waitresses who brought them their non-alcoholic beverages.

“During workdays, his set is at 8.00 PM. Thursdays to Saturdays, he has a second set at 11 PM. He usually plays between thirty and forty-five minutes during each set,” she replied in a friendly manner and then halted for a second. “Excuse me.”

Chloe turned to see what the waitress observed. There was nobody of note. The three Brittanys were standing on top of the staircase, but other than that there was nobody that caught her eye except perhaps for a lady in her late thirties with long brown hair; she did not wear any party dress, but then there were quite a few men and women who obviously worked high-end jobs and had come here to relax after hours; she was by no means the only one wearing business-casual, Chloe herself was no different. The woman was short, around 5 ft 3, wore comfortable shoes, which indicated that she spent a lot of time on her feet. She was not chubby by any means but compared to the model-like figures surrounding her, she looked a bit out of place and this was probably why Chloe noticed her in the first place.

“Dr. Cooper, welcome!” she heard Patrick greet the lady with more than his usual polite demeanor. He had even left his spot behind the bar as he approached her with a smile. “I didn’t know you’d come here tonight. The boss will be happy to see you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s Laura, Patrick?” she smiled.

“Until I’m sure he’s not going to kill me for disprespecting you?” was the uncharacteristically flippant reply.

“Don’t be silly, he’d never do that,” Dr. Laura Cooper contradicted with a laugh.

“No, but he’ll _disapprove_ and will give me that look that makes me feel about two inches tall,” countered Patrick, shuddering a little. “So I must decline, ma’am. Dr. Cooper it is.”

“Fine, do you know if he’s free tonight or does he already have his eyes on someone?”

“He didn’t call you?”

“ _Chloe_!” Dan called for her attention, but she shushed him, intently listening to the conversation behind them.

“-never calls us. You know that. It’s not in his nature.”

“Really, Dr. Cooper?” Mazikeen’s voice was suddenly far too close as if she had emerged from the shadows. “You’re talking about Lucifer Morningstar. He who preaches that we should take what we desire.”

“Not him though, not when it comes to the things he really wants,” the other lady contradicted and Chloe wanted to fully turn around in order to see Mazikeen’s expression. She did not have to, because Lucifer’s bodyguard/servant/friend chuckled and it sounded remarkably sincere.

“Good. It only took you only four years to get it. Do you _want_ to be here? Because if you’d rather be anywhere else you should leave before he knows you’re here. He’s going to ask tonight.”

“Mazikeen, what’s going on?” asked Dr. Cooper urgently.

“Join that booth. He’ll be there after playing his set.” With that, she disappeared as silently as she had arrived.

“She likes me,” Dr. Cooper stated confidently. “I know she does.”

Patrick chuckled, “Your usual, Dr. Cooper?”

“Yes, please,” said she and began to move giving Chloe an excuse to turn her head slightly. “Patrick,” the lady continued. “How about a compromise? Dr. Laura.”

Chloe had turned her face just well enough to see him pale and walk away quickly.

“I’m just teasing you, kid,” she called after him before she approached their group.  “Hello there, my name’s Laura Cooper and Patrick has assigned this booth to me and far be it from me to go against his wishes.”

Introductions were made quickly and she looked quite excited upon hearing Chloe’s name.

“Detective Decker,” she exclaimed. “Oh, Lucifer has told us so much about you. He has a deep respect for your skillset, and he’s wonderfully clueless about how to best approach you given that you’ve rejected all of his usual ways of connecting to people.”

“Sex, you mean?” asked Chloe dryly. “No, thank you.”

“Give him time,” the other woman implored her with a smile. “He’s a wonderful friend; he’s just not used to being one.”

“Us?” asked Dan from the sidelines.

“My husband Simon. He had to work late, but he’s coming over.”

“So, you three…” he began, but Dr. Cooper shut him down with a polite smile and a look that did not suggest counter-arguments. “Whatever you think, chances are that you are dead-wrong.”

The first notes of a lively song Chloe did not recognize temporarily ended the conversation. The patrons settled down to listen to their host’s performance. Unsurprisingly, Lucifer was playing multiple French chansons, none of which Chloe recognized but given the tone, they were all somehow connected to Édith Piaf. His rendition of _Je ne regrette rien_ was absolutely stunning and everybody was clapping at the end. The atmosphere shifted again when he played the first notes _Bohemian Rhapsody_.

Dr. Cooper frowned, muttering under her breath, “What is it with you tonight, Lucifer?”

“Something wrong?” Chloe muttered, curious beyond belief.

“It’s just…” she hesitated. “He once told us that Freddie never fails to break his heart even though it’s the last thing the man would have wanted.”

 _Bohemian Rhapsody,_ or at least its first score gave way to _Radio Ga Ga_. To Chloe’s great surprise, she realized that, where the rest of Queen would have carried Freddie Mercury, Lux’ staff supported Lucifer. The smile he bestowed on them was positively breathtaking. The entire club joined for the chorus, clapping along. Like yesterday, it was magic, though in another way this time. If yesterday was a one-man show, the music today included everyone. 

 _We watch the shows, we watch the stars_  
_On videos for hours and hours_  
 _We hardly need to use our ears_  
 _How music changes through the years_

 In this moment, Chloe understood what Dr. Cooper meant when she talked about heartbreak. Something about the way he sung about the change that music went through over time did not just make her think of the last fifty years and how radio had to yield to other media, but made her think of the changes music went through over the last centuries. She could not say why given that music history was not something she was interested in. Nevertheless, she suddenly no longer saw the grand piano he was playing on but rather something older, less mellow with harsher strings - yet coming to life if handled by someone with true talent. The last notes rang out by the time Chloe could focus on the music again.

Lucifer made his way over to them and he froze slightly upon seeing Dr. Cooper.

“Dr. Laura!” with a wide smile, his arms slightly open but not wide enough to invite a hug, he approached her. “What a wonderful surprise!” She stood up, waved away his protests, took a step closer and hugged him. Very gently, as if fearing that he could hurt her, his arms wrapped around her and put his chin on top of her head, his eyes closed. Once they let go off each other, she lifted her head and he kissed her forehead affectionately.

“You know you can kiss me on the lips, right?” she asked teasingly. “Simon not only does not mind, he actually approves.” He just kissed the top of her head again and countered, “In three months, two weeks, one day.” his smile was wide and just a tiny bit hungry.

She just leaned into him, so he could hug her sideways, “As you wish.”

That seemed to have the exact opposite effect of what she wanted, because Lucifer stiffened slightly, “What do _you_ wish, Dr. Laura?” His eyes met hers.

“Honestly?” asked the doctor. “I want to spend tonight with my husband and my dearest friend cuddled up in your bed, talking about everything but the fact that I just had to diagnose a ten-year-old with osteosarcoma.” She bit her lips. “She was supposed to have a simple tibia fracture. Her parents are colleagues of mine and they just asked me for a second opinion. I couldn’t give them the answers they wanted.”

He wrapped his arms around her yet again, holding her close, “Perhaps not, but you gave them the answers they needed. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

She sighed and let him hug her.

“Where’s Simon?”

“Working long hours, but he should be on his way now.”

Lucifer frowned. He lifted his hand, and – as if summoned – Mazikeen appeared by his side. He tilted his head and whispered something in her left ear, but Chloe could not make out what it was. It did not sound like English. The dangerous-looking lady nodded, her expression serious and was on her way out when Lucifer called her back. His tone was dark, commanding and she turned around immediately. With his left middle finger, he tapped the stone in the ring on his right hand three times before he took it off and gave it to Mazikeen who froze for just a moment. They did not say anything, but apparently, words were not needed. She took the ring, put it into her pocket and left.

“Lucifer, what is going on?”

“Yes, that is an excellent question, Dr. Laura.” He then looked to Agent Simmons with a challenging expression. “What _is_ going on?”

Simmons gave Dr. Cooper a short overview over current events without giving away any details about the investigation, but he mentioned that Lucifer’s help was ‘heaven-sent’, which made her laugh.

“Are you sure you have the destination right? It’s actually quite the opposite, wouldn’t you say? He was neither heaven- nor hell-sent; he was more heaven-rejected and then he rejected hell.”

Lucifer looked at ‘Dr. Laura’ with such a fond expression, Chloe could not suppress a smile: she had not known that ‘adorable’ was an adjective that could be attributed to Lucifer Morningstar, but it fit his youthful features quite nicely. He leaned forward and kissed the doctor’s cheek.

A tall African American man, about an inch shorter but bulkier than Lucifer, approached the club owner from behind with a broad smile, “What’re you doing with my wife?”

Lucifer instantly leaned back against the couch, tilted his head up and slightly back, exposing his throat, which made him look incredibly vulnerable.

“I would love to do some very naughty things with her, but I’m afraid that’ll have to wait. But a devil can dream.” He grinned and – though Chloe kind of expected it, she was still surprised to see the other man bending down to kiss the club owner’s left cheek before he gently put his forehead against Lucifer’s who met the tender gesture with a soft smile and eyes that fluttered close reflexively. The newcomer then proceeded to give his wife a peck on the lips before he stepped around the couch. She rose from her seat, kissed him again, hugged him and they proceeded to sit down, neatly putting Lucifer in between them who leaned into Dr. Cooper’s husband, while his arms wrapped around the doctor. In the months she had known him, Chloe had never seen her would-be partner this happy and content. His eyes drifted to Mazikeen who was watching the whole show with suspicion. She then took a step closer to him and returned his ring in one swift movement as if she did not want to keep it a second longer than necessary. He took it, slipped it back on and nodded his thanks. She copied the gesture and walked away.

“Is there any reason for sending Hell’s scariest demon to bring me in?” asked Simon.

“Oh, she’s by far the most competent but not even close to being the scariest,” Lucifer contradicted casually as if he was talking about anything other than his elaborate delusions. “However, I do hope she gave you a choice.”

“Since I planned to come here anyway, I would say… kind of. If I planned to go home, the answer would have to be ‘no’.”

“Apologies, Simon, this is my fault,” said Lucifer with genuine regret in his tone. “I’ll talk to her.”

“No, no, don’t worry, I want to be here, there is no place on the planet I’d rather be right now, I just thought that I would answer truthfully.”

“Alright then,” grinned the self-proclaimed devil as if nothing happened. “Where were we?”

Dr. Cooper then introduced herself and her husband – she was a board-certified pediatric orthopedic surgeon, he was a computer specialist with focus on software development for all kinds of imaging techniques working at UCLA as a contractor; he was not a scientist but he worked with scientists to improve existing imaging techniques – before she introduced the rest of the group to Mr. Cooper and told him about why they were working with Lucifer.

“This is horrifying,” exclaimed Dr. Laura’s husband. While he was obviously desturbed by the news, he also took it with an inner calm that was quite striking. He took Lucifer’s left hand and squeezed it gently. “Let’s hope you’ll be able to put a stop to this soon.”

“Yes, Mr. Morningstar,” Agent Bianchi used this moment to bring up the issue at hand. “Would you mind telling us how your security works?”

“Well, Mazikeen is official head of security, but since she has a clear bias about the people she wants to protect – me – I organize it for the most part,” replied Lucifer. “What do you see when you look around?”

“Even though the club has levels, there are hardly any dark corners. The only thing we don’t see from our current positon is the staircase behind us,” answered Simmons in Bianchi’s stead.

“Precisely. Every night, there are three bouncers, two outside, one in the room, and eight members of the security staff, generally five men and three women, though that can change depending on their schedule. They keep an eye on things, especially if Mazikeen or I or both of us are occupied. They check to make sure that nobody gets cornered or ignored should they suddenly decide that they had enough but their companion does not agree. Security also makes sure that the bartenders and servers know when someone had enough to drink, but everybody does that, including the dancers. There are signals that are being used to communicate across the rooms. Last but not least, security makes sure none of the dancers are touched inappropriately. My staff is off-limits unless it is their desire not to be, but for that too, exist indicators that broadcast welcome advances so that the rest of the staff does not interfere.”

“I see,” muttered Bianchi. “That… sounds like you have an incredibly capable staff that is very much in tune with each other, but I’m not sure if we can easily copy this kind of… controlled chaos.”

Lucifer frowned, “Chaos cannot be controlled, Special Agent Bianchi. That defeats its entire purpose. Chaos cannot be guided either, it just is.”

Dan’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline, “So the devil believes in evolution.”

“Evolution has nothing to do with faith or belief,” was the dismissive answer. “Evolution just is. Sure, Dad made humanity, or rather, its essence by creating human souls – not that humans are the only beings with souls, demons are actually unique for lacking one, but never mind that – he created the first souls, Adam and Eve, but regarding the physical form they would later take? We had no idea. It took eons, too, and you should have seen some of the ideas thrown around regarding what humans would ultimately look like; it’s absolutely hilarious. For the longest time, we thought you’d wind up in the ocean, I guess that’s where the merpeople stories come from… Anyway, it is a fact that everything tends towards entropy and what could possibly be more chaotic than life itself?” he smiled at them as if he had not just made one of the most profound statements Chloe had ever heard him – or anyone – say. “Really, life is a natural consequence of the Big Bang: there is no chaos in death and therefore something will somehow always survive, because nothing can defeat or control chaos. My siblings have trouble seeing that sometimes, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Silence followed that. The first to react was Simon Cooper, “That makes a scary amount of sense. How come we’ve never talked about chaos theory before?”

“Because if there is one character trait that humans inherited from Dad, it’s their infinite wish to control the uncontrollable,” suggested Lucifer with a smile. His eyes were fixed on something on the other side of the room and Chloe followed his gaze.

There was some sort of commotion and two of Lux’ security personnel were present within seconds.

“Excuse me,” said Lucifer, distangling himself from his lovers or friends or whatever they were, and made his way through the crowd.

It appeared like his team had things under control, but she could not even finish that thought when she saw a metallic glimmer from the corner of her eyes. “Knife!” she shouted and all the members of law enforcement currently sitting on the couch got up quickly. It turned out to be unnecessary, because Lucifer blocked almost casually and the would-be attacker was on the ground within seconds. Dan went over to check on them, but returned soon.

“Wasn’t a knife,” said Dan. “Brass knuckles, though. Morningstar rejected my help, said that a low-level thug in his club was no reason to call the attention of LAPD’s finest. He almost sounded sincere.”

“He was being sincere,” said Dr. Laura. “Congratulations, Detective Espinoza. Lucifer’s warmed up to you.”

“Not exactly a life-goal achieved, but thank you,” retorted Dan, trying to tone down his sarcasm around her.

“Really? I can’t decide whether makes you brave or stupid,” Mr. Cooper chimed in with the same bout of cruel honesty that Lucifer tended to display.

“Simon, no, you’re not being fair!” Dr. Cooper hushed him, her hand around her husband’s neck in a calming gesture. “Lucifer is slow at changing his opinions,” she addressed Dan directly. “He judges quickly and harshly, and during his first interaction with you, he saw you trying to control your ex-wife’s actions, pressuring her into closing a case he very much cared about and provoking a verbal dispute in front of your child. He may claim to despise children, but he hates to see parents fight in front of their ‘offspring’ to use his turn of phrase. You raised several red flags for him and now he’s learning that there is something beyond that. Him not using you as a simple street cop but acknowledging that you serve the LAPD in an entirely different function is a clear sign of that.”

“How come you know about our first meeting?” asked Dan instead of commenting on the amount of information she had just given him. But that was just Dan. He needed time to mull things over in his head before deciding what to do next.

“He told us,” answered Mr. Cooper, much more polite than before. “How else?”

“Now, where were we?” Lucifer’s voice effectively broke the moment. He looked very upbeat as if somebody attacking him with brass knuckles was amusing. “I do hope you’ll continue to visit Lux, Special Agent Bianchi, despite not being able to use my security system for other clubs. Is your wife in town? She’s also invited.” The playful grin he bestowed on the other man reminded Chloe of how he looked at Dr. Linda Martin during their first meeting and just like Dr. Martin, Bianchi was not immune; he nervously licked his lips and shifted slightly as if trying to hide an unwelcome body reaction. As inconspicuously as possible, she glanced over to Lucifer’s companions to see how they took it, but Mr. Cooper looked amused, and ‘Dr. Laura’ positively giddy.

Bianchi cleared his throat, “I-“ a cough to dispel the husky tone of his voice, “-would not wish to intrude.” He gestured at the Coopers, his thoughts obviously going in the same direction as Chloe’s.

Momentarily confused, Lucifer glanced between his _friends_ and Bianchi.

“What?” Realization hit. “Oh, right. No, we only have sex on Dr. Laura’s and Simon’s anniversary, which is indeed one of the few nights a year where I’m not available, but other than that I am open.” He paused as if engrossed in thought. “Well, surely, when they come to visit, I usually – well, always these days – prefer our platonic get-togethers over sexual encounters with others,” that statement made the doctor smile fondly, “but that does not mean that I never sleep with other people on the nights they visit… or when they’re in the same room for that matter. In fact, it’s an absolute marvel when they decide to demonstrate their passion for each other outside of a private setting. It’s always a privilege, and as rare as the gift of letting me help explore their sexual desires when they celebrate the date of their wedding.” With that, he smiled at his friend-lovers hungrily, which caused Simon to wrap his hand around Lucifer’s before kissing his wrist. “These two are annoyingly monogamous, however, giving me the illusion that it could work.”

“You don’t believe in monogamy, do you?” muttered Dan.

“No, I don’t,” was the immediate reply. “I’m not too fond of cheaters, because they often ignore their partner’s desires, but I don’t tend to judge them too harshly; sometimes you just have to break out of your chains and relationships can be just that. I would prefer it if people simply had open relationships and did not try to restrict themselves to one partner.”

“What about STDs?” asked Simmons, looking mildly curious and a bit amused, but it was hard to tell with the stoic man.

“Well, I don’t have to worry about that, being the devil, but really, if people were less prude about sex – thank you so much for that, Father Dearest – and nudity in general, people would not feel ashamed to get tested and treated, which would decrease incidence of genital disease regardless of sexual behavior,” explained Lucifer, obviously having thought about that before.

“Isn’t shame something humankind learned from you, when you tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden?” asked Simmons, obviously curious to see what Lucifer’s answer would be and Chloe wondered why on Earth a rational man like Special Agent Simmons would encourage her quasi-partner’s delusions.

The reaction to that was genuine laughter, “Now, that’s just wrong, Agent Simmons, and not at all what happened either, and I dearly hope you have some time because I must rectify this incorrect assumption before you leave for tonight.”

“I am all ears, Mr. Morningstar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In case I have not made myself clear already: This story and the mythology that comes with it, is AU. Here, there is no Eve, there is no Cain, at least not in the physical sense. I will go into a little bit of detail in the next chapter, and will leave it at that. My very science-based heart could not bear the idea of a literal/physical Adam and Eve. Apologies for that. Thanks for indulging me.  
> Oh, and let me just tell you that I don’t agree with Lucifer’s statements on monogamy, but the Lucifer we see on the show seems to believe in the the ideas I stated here.
> 
> Next up: Lucifer tells the story of Adam and Eve, enjoys his cuddle time with the Coopers and meets Dr. Foster at the precinct the next day. She’s not what he expected.


	9. Sleeping with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of the Garden of Eden, the Bringer of Light, and a Soul lost in Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, new chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for your support. It's far too late and I should have gone to bed hours ago, so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> I will reply to the comments that I have not commented on yet as soon as I can. Thank you for them, they are very precious to me and are great for my motivation.

Given everything that happened after the events at the Garden of Eden, he probably should not think back so fondly, but he had not been punished for his actions there. This is where his inner rebellion started, the first time any angel had gone against their father’s expressed wishes, but it was not the cause for his Fall.

“First of, don’t think of the Garden as something you could ever touch physically. It’s similar to Heaven and Hell: completely unreachable – for you, at least – not part of this plane of existence. It’s not Heaven; in some ways even its opposite. You see, the Silver City, or Heaven, is home to the angels and souls that lived a life virtuous enough to deserve its place there, but that’s just it: souls that  _lived_. I’m not just talking about humans either. For simplicity’s sake, just accept the saying ‘all dogs go to Heaven’ as fact. Anyway, Eden is Heaven’s opposite in that Eden holds souls that never really existed. In the case of Adam and Eve, your ancestors – before they were called humans – possessed souls, of course, but Adam and Eve were Dad’s idea of humanity. Now, given that snakes came into being long before humans existed – preceding them by around a hundred million years or so by Earth’ reckoning – there were no snakes in Eden at the time. They long departed that plane of existence. The snake _was_ me; one of the few things you humans ever got right about me.” He took a sip from the glass that Tamra so kindly handed him before he continued. “The whole apple thing is a pretty awful metaphor for what actually happened, though I do love the imagery of it, and I adore apples, so... Anyway, Dad made humanity – apart from everyone else – but he loved you so dearly. It angered quite a few of my siblings, because he forgot about us in the process. You see, the reason he was so fond of you is that he gave you something that he neglected to bestow on us: free will. I guess he was bored with us, I wouldn’t know, it’s not like he talked to me about that, but he wanted humanity to choose their own fate to an extent. However, because he’s the biggest control freak in the universe, he kept you in that golden cage called Eden for a long time. I was curious to meet his pet projects, so – in defiance of his orders – I visited them. Eve was curious, as curious as me, asking ‘why’ where my own siblings would’ve never dared and I was entranced by it because, for the first time in my existence, I no longer felt alone.” Old pain caused him to close his eyes for a second. Simon gently grasped his neck and Lucifer sighed in response. Humans would never understand how much he envied them and how much he treasured them. Oh, he was jealous to a point – not unlike many of his siblings who positively despised humanity at times – but that held no candle to the bonfire with which he adored humans; regardless of the absolute cruelty they were capable of, the violence and pain they could inflict on each other, despite their hatred of him, despite how much evil he had seen in that species; thanks to them, he no longer felt alone and for that, he would always be grateful. “We talked for hours, and Dad only knows how much time passed on Earth.” He knew that slightly judgmental look in the Detective’s eyes, the one that almost invariably was followed by a scoff. “No matter what you think, no, I did not have sex with Eve. You can’t have sex with a soul, unfortunately, which is apart from the fact that I did not know what sex was until many years later. I was, at the time, still a loyal servant to my father. I did not teach her about shame, but we did talk about the universe, and I believe the conversation sparked a fire in her. Soon, Dad realized he could no longer keep humanity caged and he released their souls.”

“And then what? Humans discovered fire?” asked Simmons and Lucifer had the distinct feeling that the man did not believe him, but respected his ‘elaborate mindscape’ and was quite curious to hear more.

“Kind of, but no. However, with Adam and Eve, your curiosity was born, which then drove your progress; it is humanity’s greatest asset and danger after all. You evolved, you started to build and develop, anything that would give you an advantage over the predators and your prey. You wanted to understand the world and along the way, you developed the arts and science. You told stories, gave your knowledge to the next generation – not only a human achievement, mind you – and then you brought music into the world.” He looked at the piano grand standing in the center of Lux. His fingers itched and he smiled. “And just for that, talking to Eve was worth the consequences."

“The emergence of music is worth your fall from Heaven?” asked Bianchi incredulously.

Lucifer winced, feeling his skin prickle painfully as it always did when he thought of that endless Fall.

“Talking to Eve was not the reason I Fell. He shunned me for asking for what you had: free will. I rebelled, but… I was clueless, naïve,” and completely incapable of hurting his siblings, whereas they had shown very little restrain in return, “and I got my arse handed to me, pardon the expression. So no, music was not worth the Fall, but it sure as Hell made me fall in love with this ocean-covered lump of rock.”

There was no music in Hell, and he still firmly believed that this was just a bit of extra-punishment served cold by his father.

The expressions on the faces of Detective Daniel, the Detective and the two federal agents made him chuckle. They did not believe a word he said (What part of _‘I don’t lie’_ was so difficult to understand?), and they did not even try to hide their morbid fascination. He wondered what they were thinking. Did they wonder what horrible career choices ended up with them consulting a raving lunatic for a case (or cases)? Did they think he was delusional or an elaborate conman or – as Ms. Lopez believed – a method actor? Humans were fascinating.

Simon and Dr. Laura on the other hand were curious and attentive, though he could see that Dr. Laura was exhausted and, while this was fun and he would have enjoyed talking some more about it all, he wanted her to get some rest.

“Now, while I could go on all night about the misconceptions people have about divinity, I do believe we should all get some rest before we go about catching the people whose views on faith are so skewed they won’t be knocking on Heaven’s Gates anytime soon.”

Everyone took a glimpse at their watches; he saw how the Detective winced when she saw that it was already 10 PM. This was the second time in a row that her spawn would go to bed without a bedtime story from either of her parents. As little as he understood these tiny humans, he knew it made the Detective feel bad and he remembered how his younger siblings were always extra-clingy after he was away for a while (or used to be).

They thanked him for his hospitality, agreed to meet tomorrow at 9 AM at the precinct and shortly after, with his arm around Dr. Laura, he entered the elevator to his penthouse with his dear friends. Simon stood by Dr. Laura’s left, but his right arm was around both of them, hand resting on Lucifer’s hip. While they went through their evening routine, they chatted a bit about the last couple of days, weeks, and to his great disappointment, Dr. Laura told him that their usual meet-up next Saturday would need to be cancelled because one of her colleagues was not able to attend a conference in Atlanta next week, so she would need to go there and give the presentation about a case report. Simon would accompany her, so Lucifer would not be able to see either of them next week.

To pretend he was not disappointed was a lie; he had looked forward to it. Nevertheless, he would simply enjoy his time with them now. Also, they promised to come by in two weeks’ time. Simon told them of a fascinating project that would improve the superresolution microscopy technique STORM tenfold if they could get the software to work. The man was always enthusiastic in a very restrained way; not ‘restrained’, perhaps, that would give the man a disservice since Simon was passionate and could be utterly undone (not just sexually, though that was always a pleasure to see, but also emotionally and few things were more rewarding than making this man laugh out loud; it was very similar to how he felt when he made the Detective laugh), but he practically represented the definition of an introvert.

Lucifer asked the questions necessary to keep Simon talking about his project and, at some point when they were already on the bed, Dr. Laura smiled at Lucifer as if he had hung the moon (which he had not, actually, unlike practically everything else in the night sky, so that was strange). Then, of course, Dr. Laura talked about her truly awful day, and – not really knowing how to make her feel better, he just said.

“You should talk to Dr. Linda. She’s a wonderful therapist, talking to her always helps and I think you need a lady friend that understands the gravitas of your responsibilities.”

For some reason, she laughed and gently patted his chest, “While I would love to meet your Dr. Linda, and give my thanks for her excellent work – though there are ethical concerns that I would like to discuss with her-“ she shushed him when he opened his mouth to defend the psychiatrist. “As long as she is satisfying her desires by sleeping with you as payment for your sessions, she is not acting in a professional manner.” Firm, to the point and stubborn. Really, she should meet Dr. Linda; they would get along so well. “I don’t think that it would be wise or ethical of me to have the same therapist as you, Lucifer. It would not be fair to her either.”

Confused and feeling oddly wrong-footed, Lucifer backed up a bit, “Why? Do I add to your pain?”

He did not want that. There was a reason why he held himself apart from humans in any non-sexual capacity, though he had to admit that he was failing more and more at doing that, not just with Dr. Laura and Simon, but also with the Detective, Dr. Linda, his staff and when exactly had he lost count of the humans he let in?

He was fully aware that, while living more freely than ever before in his existence, he would never be able to entirely live out his self on the earthly plane, because – burned out or not – he _was_ the Light Bringer, and he would always be. He was as consuming as the sun itself (much, much more than that, actually). If he took off the lid he had firmly placed on himself, he could take this world apart and burn the entire universe in the processs.

 

_But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—_

_It gives a lovely light!_

 

 _‘Oh, dear Edna, old friend, how right you are. I hope the Silver City becomes you,’_ he thought desperately. He hoped the serenity and peace of Heaven had not taken away her fierceness and confidence. For a moment, the phantom pain of his severed limbs was almost too much to bear.

Dr. Laura’s hands on both of his cheeks (and not the fun ones) brought him back from his reveries.

“No, of course not, Lucifer. Not at all.” She then smiled mischievously. “What’s an existential crisis or two between friends?”

Lucifer lowered his head so he did not have to meet her gaze while chuckling ruefully. Oh right, that… It was good that they knew, he supposed, but he knew that – even though their first monthly absence from Lux ultimately led to their current routine, which he treasured – the true reason why they had stayed away for four weeks after visiting Lux almost daily following their first night together was because they had seen him punish a would-be rapist with his nastier side on full display. It must have been a shock for them, though Simon’s ‘Momma didn’t know whether to come here and threaten you with a cross or hug you for making her son a believer at 32. She decided to make you a sweet potato pie instead.’ was one for the history books.

It took them a while to come to terms with it and he had not… done anything, really. They called him one evening, asked some questions, hung up, and at some point they came back, telling him that they wanted to be friends, and to restrict sex to only their anniversary, but that they would understand if he could not accept their wishes. They would still like to come to Lux regularly, relax and – if he was fine with it – spend their evenings and nights with him. It was one of the simpler choices to make.

“You don’t add to my pain, you never have. That being said, you’re her patient and it would be a conflict of interest for her to become mine or Simon’s therapist.”

Lucifer was not quite sure where she was going with this. There was nothing he told Dr. Linda that he would not also willingly share with them, but perhaps this was a human thing. So, he just nodded.

“I could ask her for recommendations,” he suggested.

“It’s okay, but thank you. I would like to meet her despite everything I just said.”

“Good,” said he.

“Just one more thing: why her? I mean she’s capable, I grant you that…” Lucifer frowned, but Dr. Laura waved his concerns away. “Don’t look at me like that. I checked her qualifications. Even if you weren’t the devil, you are my friend, and I had to make sure she knew what she doing. Still, why her?”

Lucifer thought back to their first meeting and the way she had reacted to him.

One of the complex ones indeed.

“She w… She wasn’t all she could be. She wasn’t depressed, not even unhappy, just… dimmed.” How could he explain to them what he saw in Dr. Linda if he himself did not entirely understand it? It was something he had first experienced after leaving Hell behind; that sometimes people’s inner lights were not as bright as they could be, and he felt the need to do something about it.

“And you wanted to see her shine,” suggested Simon. Dr. Laura’s back was against him, and they were both facing him; Dr. Laura held Lucifer’s hands.

“Yes,” Lucifer breathed, staring at his friend. “Yes, precisely.”

For a moment, there was silence, but then Simon reached out and covered their hands with his before gently pulling them to his lips and kissing them. His fingers then stroked Lucifer’s ring.

“What’s with this ring, Lucifer? Mazikeen could not wait to give it back to you.”

“Oh, don’t you know? It’s the ‘ _One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne_ ,’” Lucifer chuckled. He did not enjoy the Prince of Darkness moniker, but if he could make _Lord of the Rings_ references over it, it was almost worth having. Not that he did not fully realize that Melkor/Morgoth was Satan to an extent – the Deceiver, the Adversary – but Lucifer never saw himself reflected in the evil that this entity represented. No, he always reminded Lucifer of the darkness they had fought so long ago in his father’s name.

“You don’t want to tell us?” asked Simon, not disappointed, just curious and accepting.

“Oh no, there is no secret,” he contradicted instantly. “The ring’s story is a bit mundane, just a token from times long past. Before I was the Lord of Hell, I was an angel in my father’s service, as you know. First came Amenadiel for his domain was time and time was needed for everything else to exist. Then came the seven archangels including myself. All of us had our own personal domains and mine was the Light.”

“You created all the stars of the universe including the sun.”

“Yes,” Lucifer smiled happily. Pride may be a sin, but then he had been a sinner since the beginning of time. “I was so young, I barely remember. Dad commanded that there should be Light and I made the light. Ten billion galaxies, give or take a few, each containing around a hundred billion stars. That sounds like a lot, and it was, but really, time passed so much slower in the beginning, and it did not take long at all. At least, I don’t think so. I was practically a baby still. Can you imagine that your father’s proudest moment regarding your own existence is from a time when you weren’t even old enough to think? At the time I believed his love for me and his faith in me would never end.” He smiled at them sadly before he scoffed, “Naivety of youth, I guess.” To not dwell on it further, he went back to the matter at hand, “From each star I made, I kept one tiny piece of it, not a grain, much smaller, I guess the word ‘molecule’ would be the most befitting term for what I kept. Let’s just call it a miniature stardust collection. I had it on me forever and when I Fell, it melted into a lump of rock. So I formed a ring out of it.” He brought his right hand closer to his face to inspect the ring. “If I look closely enough, I can see the universe reflected in the stone.” He made a fist and put his hands back into theirs. “It’s part of me and in this case, it works as a fancy locator device.” There was no need to tell them that, since part of him was Hell, it gave him and only him – Dad too, he supposed – the power to raise Hell on Earth in the literal sense of the word. It is a form of horrific protection he hoped he would never have to resort to. “If anything happened that Mazikeen could not handle, she would have called me, and I would have found you through it.”

Simon stared at him, “To protect me.”

“Of course.”

“You were afraid and nervous that something could happen to me, worried enough to send Mazikeen,” said Dr. Laura. “But that’s not all, is it? She could have handled a couple of homophobic humans without breaking into sweat. Why the extra-measure?”

“Because if something happened to Simon, I would have never forgiven myself,” answered Lucifer when he realized that he would not be able to bluff himself out of this one without lying.

“You didn’t do anything,” Simon contradicted firmly. He sat up and Dr. Laura copied the movement. “These attacks are not your fault. Even if something happened to me, it would not have been your doing.”

“Not exactly,” contradicted Lucifer. “You told me yourself that I was the only ma-male, let’s go with male here, that you have ever been attracted to. I have made men question just how straight they were, but I’ve very rarely been the sole exception in an otherwise heterosexual lifestyle. You, my friend, are one of the few. Ultimately, if the people committing these hate crimes were ever here, saw you with me and decided to harm you because of it, this would make me at least partially responsible, because without me, you would not have been a target.”

His pulse spiked in excitement when Simon elegantly shifted underneath his wife, turned so that his incredible body was on top of his, their chests barely touching but their hips joined. Arousal hit suddenly and he inhaled sharply, reminding himself that sex was not what they desired, not today. It did not help to feel Simon’s body respond and to hear the slightly labored breath of both of his current bedpartners.

“Simon, please don’t make this harder. Literally.”

Thankfully, the joke had the desired effect and they both started to laugh. Simon flopped down on his other side, while Dr. Laura drew closer to Lucifer’s chest, very careful not touch a currently very sensitive part his body.

Simon wrapped his arms around Lucifer protectively, “We both love you, Lucifer. You’re our closest friend.” His low, calm voice was so caring and so lovely that arousal gave way to a very painful tightening of his chest. His heart too full, the former Lord of Hell closed his eyes. He never returned their proclamations, because what he felt could not be put into words. Was it love? Was it human love? Were angels even capable of it? He deeply cared about them, which he had told them in the past. “If some homophobic asshole has a problem with that, it’s still not your fault. Free will, remember?”

“Yes, well, but they use events where I had a hand in to justify their crimes.”

“I have it from good authority that the devil cannot make people do things,” smiled Dr. Laura, kissing Lucifer’s forehead. “Even if you had a hand in the events used to justify their crimes, how many years ago did those events occur?”

“I don’t know,” answered Lucifer truthfully. “When did Sodom and Gomorrah fall? By then, I’d already been banished from Heaven for many years. Eons in Hell had passed by the time Father called me to serve divine justice on Earth. Good riddance. They deserved to be punished, but not for the reasons people think. They wanted to rape my brothers. Rape’s unforgivable. I should have ripped them to shreds for touching them, for threatening them. I didn’t. I just let them burn.”

He closed his eyes for a bit. This felt nice. The warmth of their bodies pressed to him was like a lullaby and he was reminded why he enjoyed staying with his lovers until the next morning. Some people, he knew, left soon after, but most stayed, and he enjoyed every minute of it. The cuddly times without sex he had with Simon and Dr. Laura were strange, but were no less if not more precious than nights with a happy ending.

“Lucifer?”

Hm? Oh, Simon was asking a question.

“Yes?”

“Just… You once told us that one second on Earth is a year in Hell.”

“Hm.”

“If you started your rebellion only a few years after humanity became what it is today then you were banished from Heaven approximately one million Earth years ago.”

“Hm.”

“That makes it…”

“Don’t think about it, Simon,” Lucifer muttered. “Time passes differently for us immortals.”

Unsurprisingly, his math-loving friend did not listen.

“One year has approximately 32 million seconds, which roughly translates to 32 million years in Hell. If you were sent there one million years ago…” Simon sounded tired too, but he was also getting a headache from the sheer scale of things.

Lucifer turned his head and gave Simon a brief peck on the corners of his lips.

“And the universe is 13 billion years old, by human reckoning, and I was there from almost the beginning of it all,” Lucifer continued gently. “A lot of that time, after creating the stars, I spent in the Silver City, where time passes not unlike in Hell, so trust me when I say that it hasn’t been that long for me.”

Too long. Surely.

And he knew that, for human standards, he had been a very young man when he started the rebellion. When he Fell, he lost his youth among many other things. Time passed similarly in Heaven and Hell, but it _aged_ you differently. These days, he was older than Amenadiel in many ways and that was a painful thought, because as much as Amenadiel annoyed him, made him absolutely furious and frustrated him to no end, the Angel of Time came first and Lucifer had looked up to him for as long as he remembered. Simon’s arms tightened around him and Lucifer’s tightened around Dr. Laura. She sighed contentedly burrowing her head in his chest. She was the first to fall asleep, Simon followed soon after. Their even breaths lulled him into sleep as well.

He woke up at 3 AM. That was a bit unusual, because he tended to sleep well and long, though hardly ever as long as his human companions. However, he felt a bit restless, with all that happened, with all the questions and all the doubts, so waking up early was not exactly a surprise. Lux had special permit – thanks to a favor he called in – that allowed Lucifer to serve alcohol after 2 AM and keep Lux open until 5 AM on weekends, however closing time on weekdays generally was at 3 AM. He elegantly distangled from Simon and Dr. Laura, making sure they had each other, before he got dressed and went down. Professionally as always, his staff were ushering out their last customers. Patrick saw him and he tilted his head in surprise. However, knowing him well enough, he did not question him but poured a glass.

“Thanks, Patrick. Good night?”

“Yes, boss. A normal Thursday night.”

“Where’s Maze?” asked Lucifer.

“She’s with Brittany Reynolds and Brian Rogers, I think,” said Patrick with an amused grin. Really, it was good seeing him handling the bar on his own. Maze was fantastic, of course, but she was unhappy at Lux (and that was painful to admit). Patrick, on the other hand, loved his job.

“Good for her. Check the register, close up and go home. You earned it. I’ll do the rest. Tipping alright tonight?”

They had a system where tips were evenly shared among the entire staff regardless of job, but Lucifer handed out weekly bonuses that depended on their position, responsibilities, the number of hours they worked and some extra money if they were performing above average (or if they needed it).

“Decent. Nothing of note happened after you left.”

Lucifer nodded, and made his rounds through the club, making sure his staff was well and accounted for. With everything that was happening, he had called in a couple of favors to make sure that his staff was safely escorted home by either his own security staff or driven home by a shuttle company he trusted. He could bear the expenses easily and it helped him sleep at night.

He went to the piano and played a few scores when he felt eyes on him. A tall woman in a cocktail dress was watching him.

“Hello, darling,” said he. “I’m afraid we’re closed.”

“Are you?” The look she gave him was hungry when she approached him.

And predatory.

Appreciation, carnal attraction was present, but there was no real desire, no passion.

She was not looking for a good night. She was stalking her prey.

Problem was, the little fox did not realize that her supposed prey was the tip of a tiger’s tail. Lucifer chuckled lowly.

“I’m afraid I am, yes. There is company upstairs that I would like to return to. I must decline I’m afraid.”

He never lied. Surely, if her desire was real, he would have loved to give her the night of her life and then returned to Simon and Dr. Laura, but as it was, he really just wanted to go back and not deal with foolish idiots who had no idea what they were dealing with.

She did not take the hint and leaned against him in a lascivious manner, which caused a spark of irritation because she pressed against his elbow causing him to press the wrong key. The disharmony ripped through him like a knife and he hissed under his breath.

“Ah, you say ‘no’, but your fingers clearly say ‘yes’,” she smiled.

It took a lot of willpower to remain polite, “You don’t want to discuss the issue of consent with me, believe me. Not tonight, not ever.” Her behavior sent off a weird alarm within him; born not from being who he was but from a different set of instincts he had acquired while living among humans with human rules, but he was not entirely sure why.

“You are so tense,” she continued, “I heard you have some very good stuff here that could take the edge off.”

And there it was.

An attempt for entrapment instigated by the DEA.

Not their first time, but they could have used a better agent; or at least let her go the ‘I want to make it Hollywood’ route; he had heard that line so many times, he might have actually fallen for it. There was no finesse to her. Honestly, this was insulting.

Not even comparable to the work of Agents Charlotte and Trevor who had been such a beautiful challenge to evade and ensnare.

“He’s got you figured out, Agent Walters.”

Speaking of the devil (pun absolutely intended)…

“What’re you doing, Charlotte?” asked the lady who was now standing next to the piano.

“Keeping you from losing your job,” countered Agent Hayes harshly. “He’s about two seconds away from suing our entire agency for entrapment, and don’t think his influence doesn’t go up far enough for that.”

“He makes shady deals with shady people. And Lux-“ she began, but Agent Anderson interrupted her.

“We investigated Mr. Morningstar and this club for two years: there’s no drug ring, no illegal sex ring, no smuggling ring, nothing. Lux is as clean as its name. We handed in our report, and Davis agreed.”

Agent Walters sneered, “You’re in too deep. You can’t see it anymore. Neither does Davis. You can’t possibly think he’s innocent. This is basically a brothel and he’s a hedonistic son of a bitch.”

At that, Lucifer just rolled his eyes, “I am not innocent and I enjoy sex, but I assure you that my parents’ marriage was blessed. Now in terms of Lux: people can live out their desires here, surely, but nobody is getting paid and nobody pays for sex here. If you must think of it in such derogatory terms, at least call it a sex club, which it isn’t. Now that you’ve insulted my person, my club and effectively disharmonized my music, you have one minute to leave my club or there’ll be dire consequences.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Morningstar?”

That made Lucifer smile, happy that she understood, “Yes, I absolutely am, because you are threatening me and there are currently enough threats surrounding my home that I don’t need an incompetent DEA agent on top of it all.”

“That’s it,” she hissed. “You’re arrested for threatening a member of…”

“No, we’re leaving, Agent Walters or I’ll have your ass for insubordination,” hissed Agent Charlotte. “Let’s get out of here.” Agents Trevor and Charlotte proceeded to remove the green DEA agent from the premise.

“Good night!” Lucifer waved cheerfully and turned back to the piano playing a tune that reflected his mood. It soured suddenly when he heard Agent Charlotte whisper to the agent, far too low for a human to hear, “Well done, Ruth, he bought it.”

His fingers froze over the keys and he looked up. He had lived with demons for eons, some of whom had tried to overthrow him, betray him, but this was the first time for a human to try lower tactics. He could not let it stand or they would try again.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Wait, wait, wait. Agent Davies told me they stopped the investigation. He assured me you did and he wasn’t lying. What happens if I call him and ask?”

“Then he will tell you that we’re here on his orders,” replied Agent Trevor. The outright lie felt like nails on a chalkboard and it irritated Lucifer.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled. He rose from his seat and stepped over to the phone that was close to the bar.

“What’re you doing?” asked Charlotte, fear creeping into her voice.

“Call him of course, I want to make sure,” said he, entering the number in order to call their boss and head of their department. The man owed him a favor, and he better not go back on his word.

“Don’t!” Charlotte pleaded, real fear in her eyes now.

“Why, Charlotte?”

She flinched for good reason. His eyes were not glowing, but he felt the shadows reaching out for them. He really wanted to punish someone. She also realized that they had majorly screwed up for he always called people by their titles, as long as they deserved them.

“You’re hiding in plain sight,” she hissed. “You violate the law and nobody cares for reasons that I can’t fathom. Your finances are too clean for the reputation you have.”

“And what precisely is my reputation?” asked Lucifer quietly.

“You’re a lunatic with delusions of grandeur. You seriously believe that you’re the devil, and you think our laws are nothing but a quirky little thing you can ignore whenever you wish.”

“Wow,” Lucifer chuckled in genuine yet cold amusement. “I must congratulate you. Every single statement you just made is wrong: I am _not_ a lunatic, I do _not_ suffer from delusions of grandeur for I _am_ the devil, I _accept_ your laws because I decided to live here and I only ignore the ones that make no sense to me. Now, get out of my house.”

“If we go, you’re not going to make the call?” asked Trevor.

“Oh, you’re in no position to make deals. You’ll take the one I give you: you go now and nothing happens. I’ll call in my IOU whenever I need and you’ll do it, or I’ll make sure your lives will never be the same.”

“Can’t we…”

“Get out,” he growled. “I am not repeating myself, Charlotte. I offered you my sanctuary, my home, as a place to relax and you used my generosity and hospitality against me. I’m not my half-brother, I never turn the other cheek.”

His expression must have sufficiently warned them not to press any further because they quickly left the room.

“You’ll hear from me,” he whispered into the dark. They ran.

He exhaled, closed his eyes, sat down and started to play.

“So that’s wrath.” Simon’s voice should not surprise him, but he jolted slightly nevertheless.

“Not even close. This was mild annoyance at best,” returned Lucifer. He did not turn his head, instead he looked straight ahead; he long ago learned that there was nothing he dreaded more than their fear. He did not mind scaring the living daylights out of criminals, in fact, he loved it, especially scumbags like Jimmy Barnes and the murderer of Ali Thornton, but he was terrified of suddenly seeing the fear in the eyes of people he cared about, feared that they would someday see for what he truly was and leave.

“Come,” said Simon, his hand trailing down Lucifer’s back, not oppressive enough to make him lose the harmony. “Teach me again.”

Lucifer laughed. Simon adored music, having grown up with extremely talented singers in the form of his mother and his sister. He listened to music on a daily basis and that had ultimately been the reason why Dr. Laura and Simon had come to Lux that first night. That being said, he was not a particularly good player. Not for lack of trying, but it was like his fingers were not doing what his mind told him. With his help, Simon played a very slow version of _Rondo alla Turca_ , and then he just sat next to him letting Lucifer play on his own.

Time seemed to slow down as he lost himself in the solace of Music. At some point, he felt like he could breathe again, and his tunes turned lighter and less heartbreaking or dark or thoughtful, just… simple joy.

When he looked up again it was 4.30 AM and he was ready to get some rest. He got up and was only partially surprised to see both Simon and Dr. Laura asleep on the couch. He approached them and gently shook Simon awake while wordlessly picking up Laura.

She never woke up and both man and devil were asleep the minute they rested their heads on the bed.

As was customary for them, Lucifer woke up first, showered, got dressed and started to make breakfast. By the time they were ready, he had prepared all of their favorites. With a big smile Dr. Laura sat down, thanked him, and Simon followed suit. Their morning conversation was quite lively as they talked about their plans for today. All too soon, they had to leave ending a very passionate discussion about the merits of cinnamon in oatmeal and some very pointed questions about his trips to Florence in 1476 where he had made sure that a former lover would not be convicted of sodomy (in return for a favor, of course). These trials were how he first met his lover’s friend Leonardo with whom he formed a friendship that would last for the rest of Leonardo’s life before his soul went to Heaven.

Standing by the elevator door, Simon addressed him again, “Do you need space or do you want us to come over tonight?”

Lucifer tried to answer, but found that he could not. A part of him wanted them here tonight, every night, but another part of him felt that he needed some distance after this very emotional night; he needed some baggage-free fun and people whose desires he could satisfy in the one way he had mastered.

“I don’t know,” said he when he could not think of an answer.

“How about this?” suggested Dr. Laura in that decisive, soft tone Lucifer was used to hear from true healers like Dr. Linda and his brother Raphael. “We’ll come over after work. You decide what you need and we’ll follow your lead.”

“This isn’t about-“

“This is absolutely about you too, Lucifer. You are our friend, our lover, and what you desire counts as much as what I or Simon desire.”

Who was he to contradict a wise woman?

He kissed them both goodbye (on the cheeks) and shortly after left for the police precinct where he arrived less than thirty minutes (he may have ignored the speed limit and bribed yet another LAPD officer, but what the Detective did not know would not hurt her).

The detectives and the two federal agents were already there; he could see them from afar. They were talking to what was obviously the expert, Dr. Foster, who was hopefully less of an ignorant hypocrite than the priest. It was a short woman with long dark hair that seemed familiar. Lucifer approached them with confident strides, greeting them all with a smile. The expert of the FBI turned with them and Lucifer would recognize that face anywhere. He had to have seen millions of faces entering and forever remaining in his domain and he remembered them all. This one, though, was a face that he remembered better than others.

“Mr. Morningstar,” said Agent Bianchi with a smile. “Good morning. Let me introduce to you Dr. Tara Foster, our expert on cults and religious extremist groups. Dr. Foster, this is Lucifer Morningstar whose expertise has been invaluable so far in this case.”

Dr. Foster’s took the to be expected doubletake at the name, but there was no true recognition. A lot of things made sense now.

 

Agent Simmons had to make a phone call to warn a member of the investigation with personal issues regarding _Divine Judgment_.

For the longest time, they could not figure out Sierra Foster’s endless cycle of self-punishment. Usually, it was quite clear. In this case, they did not understand why everything happened from a third-party perspective. Why she had seen herself storm into the room where _Divine Judgment_ Lieutenant Roger Peterson was cruelly hurting her mirror image.

 

Not a mirror.

A twin.

The question was, which one was Sierra and which one Dr. Foster?

Twins rarely separated after death. Their souls were too entwined, and Lucifer knew souls that were tagged for Hell.

He wondered if he could right a wrong caused by his father’s rules. He had failed in Hell, but perhaps, he could change the fate of the living.

_“Free will for humans, Dad. Let’s see if you actually practice what you preach.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the references for the information used in this chapter:
> 
> https://www.futurity.org/snakes-legs-evolution-1278252/  
> https://evolution.berkeley.edu/evolibrary/article/evograms_07
> 
> https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/14095/first-fig  
> https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edna-st-vincent-millay  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edna_St._Vincent_Millay
> 
> https://scienceline.ucsb.edu/getkey.php?key=3775 (stars)
> 
> http://www.arsdocet.com/Artists/Old_Masters/Leonardo_Da_Vinci/Leonardo_Da_Vinci.html


	10. God's Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Foster's past is revealed, they learn more about the seals and Lucifer forms a friendship with Ella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support.
> 
> For once, I must give a warning ahead of the chapter:
> 
> "Disturbing themes are mentioned though not described in detail (sexual predator [OC, only appears in narration but not as a character in the story because he's already dead and burning in hell], child molestation, teen pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage)"

Dan observed Morningstar and the new addition to their investigation carefully. He had expected a sneer, disrespect and disdain from the other man, in short the same feelings he had made abundantly for the priest, but instead, there was a distant look in his eyes that made him look positively ancient for a second. Within the blink of an eye, he was back to being his annoying, playboy-I’m-a-rich-motherfucker-who-never-had-to-face-any-consequences-for-his-actions self.

“Hello there, Dr. Foster. Have you come to avenge your sister?” he smiled flirtingly, his eyes dark and compelling.

_Wait, what?_

The three members of the FBI froze.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Foster forced out after being rendered speechless.

Confused, Morningstar looked at her before he turned to Chloe.

“Surely you have been informed or figured out by now that Dr. Tara Foster is Sierra Foster’s twin sister, the girl who effectively ended the life _Divine Judgment_ ’s first lieutenant Roger Peterson. Or was it the other way around? Did _you_ kill him after witnessing how he was hurting your sister? Either way, you shouldn’t feel any guilt over it. The scumback had it coming and I can guarantee you that the miscreant is paying for his sins.”

_What?!_

Chloe echoed his inner thoughts out loud and lifted her hand to stall Morningstar’s frightening revelation. “Special Agent Simmons, Special Agent Bianchi, I think now is the perfect time to have a meeting with the lieutenant. Lucifer, please, in the meantime, _please_ just stay where you are and don’t touch any evidence until we return.”

“But, Detective!” Morningstar protested with that infernal whining tone that Dan absolutely detested.

“Lucifer, stay!” ordered Chloe in a tone she usually reserved for a moping Trixie. The man barked in return, muttering “Lucifer, stay. Good devil!” which made Dan grin a bit, not for the snarky response, of course (no matter how useful he was, there were still reservations about his presence in general), but for Chloe treating the nightclub owner so dismissively. His glee and vindication was immediately replaced by dread and anger. Simmons and Bianchi had neglected to share that little piece of information and if it had not been for Morningstar, he and Chloe would have been flying blind. That was not acceptable.

“Decker, Espinoza, what are you doing in my office?” asked their superior in a warning tone.

“We need to have a talk about transparency in an investigation,” said Chloe, going toe to toe with her boss. Dan’s heart clenched with both worry and eternal admiration. He loved that woman so much. “While we’re at it, I think our co-investigators need a brush-up on dealing with conflicts of interest.”

“We were about to tell you,” said Simmons with gritted teeth. “Morningstar simply spilled the beans early. Though how h-”

“Welcome to working with Lucifer. You’ve so far dealt with his professional self, now you’re meeting the one that has no concept for privacy, and it’s only a matter of time until you pull your hair out when you meet his irresponsible, childish ass. All that aside, I’m glad he told us or we’d still be in the dark,” hissed Chloe. “He was half an hour late. You had plenty of time.”

“Well, now you know,” commented Simmons dismissively. “How does he know? Do you know him, Tara?”

She shook her head in denial, “I’ve never seen this man in my life.”

Lieutenant Monroe rose from her seat and even the FBI agents had the good sense to fall silent.

“One thing after another. What have you found out since yesterday? Have there been any more victims tonight? This case justifiably absorbs a large portion of my department, but now I want to know what you know.”

Simmons brought her up to speed: The crimes were likely committed by a cult they now called _Gomorrah’s Fall_ at Morningstar’s suggestion, which was the result of a merger between the cults _Divine Judgment_ and _Justice of Michael._ None of the cities invovled reported any murders last night, though they were looking into finding out why because the probability that the cult was scared away by increased police presence in all cities was highly unlikely. Then he spoke of the dismissal of Father Thomas and Dr. Foster as the priest’s replacement.

“And there seems to be a conflict of interest regarding her assignment,” the lieutenant stated with that deceptively mild tone she only used before heads rolled.

“Dr. Tara Foster was born into the cult of _Divine Judgment_. Both of her parents were part of that sect and she never had a choice regarding her affiliation. After she was successfully extracted from said cult, she managed to get into college to study psychology with a special focus on forensic psychology and cult dynamics. We called her in because of her expertise and only later learned of the connection of this cult to _Divine Judgment_. We believe Dr. Foster is an asset to this investigation and might see things that we don’t.”

“Alright,” said Chloe and looked straight into Dr. Foster’s eyes. “Why was nobody killed last night?”

“I cannot be one hundred percent certain, because this is not the same cult I grew up in,” began Dr. Foster, unafraid. “But last night was Michaelmas, the Feast of the Archangels. It’s one of the cult’s most sacred holidays, because _Divine Judgment_ believes that the angels are the only true sons of God and worship them as much as they worship God, for the angels are the ones that bring about heavenly justice.” Her face was carefully neutral as she spoke. “ _Justice of Michael_ , while focusing on the Archangel Michael alone, seems to share some of that philosphy at least.”

“Morningstar said something about a twin sister, Sierra Foster. What’s that all about?” challenged Dan. “Because the way he sounded, this Peterson guy either molested you when you were a girl and your sister killed him in self-defense or the other way around. What happened there?”

The neutral expression crumbled and Dr. Foster looked away.

“Dr. Foster, you will not work this case unless we get an answer to Detective Espinoza’s question,” warned Lieutenant Monroe.

“It started when I was nine,” she whispered and Dan had the sudden urge to run outside, drive to Trixie’s school and never let her out of his sight for the rest of his life. “He… chose me as his bride, so they married me off to him. I wasn’t asked. This was my parents’ chance to rise in the ranks of the cult. ‘ _A few steps closer to God'_  is what they called it. You see, the very basic belief of this cult is that if you do God’s bidding and follow the rules of the cult, God will reward you. The higher up the ranks, the closer you were allowed to God. My parents believed very deeply that this was the case and they believed that their family would be rewarded with the highest honor if I were married to Roger Peterson. My sister was very jealous in the beginning and I was…honored, but that changed quickly when I realized what that entailed. I was a late bloomer, so at sixteen, I was pregnant for the first time, but I… It turned out I can’t have children. He was so mad,” she whispered, eyes wide and fearful, clearly lost in the memory. “He was punishing me quite cruelly when Sierra came in and shot him with the weapon he would always threaten me with. She believed in the cult’s philosphoy, so much more than I ever did and after killing Peterson, she believed without doubt that she would be sent to Hell for that. Unable to live with what she’d done, she…” She paused, but they all knew what happened because of a person who knew about this tragedy for some unfathomable reason.

“So you sister was part of that cult her entire life? She never left the premises? Was it a closed community?” asked Dan.

“It was, yes, for the most part. Some were allowed outside, but the children were homeschooled, so we hardly ever left the premises,” answered Dr. Foster. “No member of the community would have been caught dead with a man named Lucifer Morningstar.” She concluded correctly anticipating Dan’s line of questioning.

“Well, technically, Lucifer used to be an archangel,” Bianchi chimed in. “He was banned from Heaven, but I distinctly remember that Lucifer used to be an angel.”

“He’s the Adversary, a mockery of the divine. There is no way anyone from my former community would ever talk to him,” she contradicted very firmly. “How he knows, I have no idea.”

“What if he didn’t go by that name?” suggested Dan. “His records go back only five years after all.”

Chloe pointed at Dan in agreement before she looked at Dr. Foster thoughtfully, “Did your community ever have contact with another cult? Since you worshipped angels, did you ever have contact to a cult that did not only worship angels but who believed themselves to be angels? Or a parallel cult with similar beliefs?”

“Well, first of all, the hypothesis that _Divine Judgment_ and _Justice of Michael_ merged into one cult is a solid one based on little but convincing evidence. Their philosophies are very similar as I already told you, but we had no contact to that cult at the time, though I cannot speak for the cult leaders and their lieutenants. Roger never shared that kind of information with me.”

“It’s worth exploring though,” commented Bianchi. “Do you think Morningstar was in a cult?” he asked Dan and Chloe.

“It’s just a possibility, and it would make sense. His mindblowing knowledge about anything that has to do with religion, his expertise on cults, his weird mannerisms, his delusions, his-” she hesitated, but then continued firmly. “the scars on his back, which he claimed he had done to himself – or rather Maze by his orders – but then simulatenously confirmed they were his father’s-God’s fault. Perhaps that Lucifer persona he created for himself is a coping mechanism. It has to be.”

“While this is all very interesting, Decker, I have more responsibilities that need my attention,” Lieutnant Monroe interrupted the discussion. “Do you agree to have Dr. Foster on this case? Will Mr. Morningstar continue to work with you?”

Dan and Chloe looked at each other and, with the practice of being married for a decade, they nodded, “Yes, but we expect complete transparency from now on, and given your involvment in this case, you cannot remain our only expert on this case, Dr. Foster. Lucifer doesn’t count. We also accept local experts, not on religion and cults perhaps, because I think that the two of you have that covered, but a psychiatrist, a profiler, somebody who can help us identify the kind of minds that would become a part of _Gomorrah’s Fall_.”

“Good, then this is settled. I expect daily updates from all of you. I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 AM.” Neither Simmons nor Bianchi dared to protest.

The FBI may handle this case, but they sure as hell did not handle the LAPD, that was Monroe’s job and Dan respected her for it. She truly was one of the best lieutenants they had in years.

“Where’s Mr. Morningstar?” asked Bianchi.

Chloe groaned and they returned to where the club owner was supposed to be. One of the nearby officers, Michaela Ramirez, was asked and she blushed mumbling something about him talking to her, and giving her an open invitation to Lux – Dan and Chloe both rolled their eyes in response – and that Morningstar then proceeded to go into the forensics lab.

“He’s a civilian, Ramirez, why on Earth would you-“ began Dan, but Chloe interrupted him. “Forget it, it’s useless. He did his weird hypnosis thing. What the hell is he doing in the forensics department?”

It did not take them long to find out. Dan saw the tall man sitting at a desk listening intently to Ella. Still having his reservations about the man, this was the first time he did not feel irritated. The look Morningstar gave the forensic scientist was not predatory or overly sexual. Instead, his lips formed the hint of a smile and his eyes were kind of warm, reminding him of how he looked at Dr. Cooper last night, whenever she said something in his defense.

“What the hell is he doing with Ella?” asked Chloe, clearly irritated, and briskly approached the two.

“-So that’s how I decided to go into forensic science,” Ella finished with a big smile on her face. Morningstar’s head was tilted as he carefully listened to her.

“Oh, I’m not judging, Miss Lopez. To be honest, I’m fascinated,” he smiled warmly. “Though I’m mostly just glad that you’re here. Your soul is like a beacon to all those lost in the dark.”

Dan was speechless for a moment. Ella truly was a ray of light when things were rough, but for Morningstar to say it so casually and with almost childish naivety was oddly heartbreaking.

Chloe cleared her throat, but Ella gave the club owner yet another hug; his reaction was as stiff and uncomfortable as the first time around, but he awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“That’s one of the sweetest things anyone ever said to me,” gushed Ella as she squeezed Morningstar once more for good measure before she let go.

That seemed to bother the man, “Are you sure about that? I mean, you could probably say ‘ _Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad’_ and the most vile of creatures would likely give a moment’s pause because they’d try to comply.”

Ella squealed, “Get outta here, dude! You speak Sindarin? This is so cool.”

“Of course I speak Sindarin; it’s a language. I speak all the languages and Professor John Ronald worked it out well enough for it to become real, so here I am.”

“Seriously, man? Did you take that out of Nicholas Cage’s _City of Angels_ because I’m not sure if that’s the way to go if you want to make it in Hollywood.”

“First, I am not a method actor and second, even if I were I most certainly would not support this sorry excuse of a movie,” Morningstar bristled. “I mean, by Dad, I certainly squabble with my siblings, but they are not the air-headed stalkers that are presented in that movie. If so many celestial beings were on the earthly plane, it might actually bring about the apocalypse. Also, that’s not how you Fall-“ Morningstar ranted, yes, ranted, the suave club owner was genuinely ranting about a cheesy romantic fantasy chick flick, and Dan almost laughed out loud.

“So, perhaps from _Meeting Joe Black?_  It’s about Azrael, I give you that,” suggested Ella, “but he does switch between languages indicating that the Angel of Death speaks every language on Earth.”

“First of all, thank you for equating my sister with Brad Pitt, that is yet another fantasy ruined,” grumbled the man. “Second, it’s true, Azrael does speak all the languages, but only the ones still spoken. I don’t forget the dead ones whereas Azrael must let go of them after they die, which often pains her. As dangerous as they were, she was very glum when the plesiosauri were supposed to go extinct at the end of the Jurassic Period. It was a hard time for her anyway, for all of us, as were all of Earth’ extinction events, but for her it was especially difficult. However, it was Dad’s will and back then I didn’t… Anyway, she was morose and, in the hopes of giving her some comfort, Raphael and I decided to save a few of her favorite plesiosauri and hid them away. We only saved the cute ones that were less predatory and more on the ‘eating small prey like fish’ side. They’re currently in Scotland as far as I remember. It made her very happy that she never had to let go off their songs.”

Silence followed that statement. Ella grinned at him, obviously amused by that story, and slightly captivated. Chloe just shook her head in disbelief.

“Let’s just pretend he didn’t say anything,” said she. “Ella, do you have anything for us?”

“Well, I just came off a phone call with my colleagues from the other cities and we’re all a bit surprised to hear that there wasn’t a single case last night.”

“We do have a theory regarding that,” began Chloe. “Last night was an important holiday for at least one of the cult-“

“Oh, they’re celebrating Michaelmas?” Ella interrupted, quite surprised. “I went to church last night, giving my thanks to the angels, but I didn’t think about how a cult like _Gomorrah’s Fall_ may be connected to that. Makes sense, though. Good thinking there, detectives.” She smiled.

Morningstar was silent.

“What do you think?” Chloe addressed the other man.

“I share Miss Lopez’ feelings on the matter, Detective. Excellent work, as usual.”

“It was actually Dr. Foster who brought it up. How come you didn’t mention it? After all, you said yourself that the devil is an angel.”

“I am also quite explicitely excluded from these festivities, and my siblings pointedly ignore this holiday. Pride is a deadly sin after all and what greater sin would it be for them to celebrate their own existence?”

“Oh,” said Ella, a bit dissapointed. “So you don’t think they hear my prayers?”

“Of course they do,” countered Morningstar in an absolutely serious manner. “As long as you have true faith in them and you address them individually, they hear you. Don’t worry about that.”

“I really hope you get the role,” Ella smiled after a moment’s pause. “Hollywood should give this version of Lucifer a chance.”

“I am _not_ a-“ Morningstar protested, but Simmons spoke up.

“Could we please focus on the case? Do you know anything else, Miss Lopez?”

“Well, actually, yes. So, since Lucifer had this brilliant idea with the seals and symbols, we’ve been working on other symbols that we might have missed. Man, you know,” the forensic scientist addressed the club owner slapping his chest with the back of her hand. She then blinked and patted the chest yet again. “Wow, just how much time do you spend in the gy-never mind, I gotta give you kudos for recognizing the seal the way you did. There were way too many possibilities, so Abby from Chicago together with Penny from Washingston D.C. wrote a program that would recognize symbols that have any kind of familiarity to the seal you depicted and they got a specific hit for each city. The program is really cool, because it took the images of the whole crime scenes and they removed-“ she saw them looking at her expectantly and she cleared her throat. “Anyway, in New York,” she started anew and pulled up a computer-generated image displaying a seal, “we found a depiction of the archangel Michael, in Chicago it’s Gabriel, in Washington DC it’s Raphael.” Morningstar stiffened and looked with a crestfallen expression at the seal. “It took us a while to identify the seal for San Francisco, and we wouldn’t have found it if there hadn’t been the Latin word _tempus_. It’s Amenadiel. According to some very obscure, old sources, he was the first of the angels and his domain is time. He’s also a great warrior. And regarding the seal we identified for LA,” Ella continued, pulling up the last image. A strangled noise escaped Morningstar and Dan looked over to him. He lost quite a bit of color and his eyes were wide. “It’s a depiction of the angel Samael.”

Dr. Foster stared, but everybody else was mostly confused. Seeing their puzzled expressions, she elaborated, “Samael was the Adversary’s name before he was cast from the High Heavens. I don’t understand why they would invoke his name. It goes against everything _Divine Judgment_ stands for.”

“Oh, but they’re not that cult anymore,” whispered the club owner. His hands were visibly trembling. “They are _Gomorrah’s Fall_ and those cities fell to the will of Samael, the Poison of God. Because He called and I answered, so I was as much his Poison as I was his Punisher.” He closed his eyes before looking at Raphael’s seal, “Oh, dear Brother, this case will break your heart.”

“Raphael’s but not that of the others?” asked Ella.

“Gabriel won’t notice, Amenadiel and Michael will get all huffy and indignant and they’ll bring about Father’s wrath, but Raphael will genuinely mourn the lives taken in his name.”

“What about you, Samael?” asked Chloe out of the blue. What followed was a full-body flinch and Morningstar stared at her as if she had just slapped him across the face.

“Please, never call me by that name ever again,” he begged. There was no demand, just outright begging as if he was putting himself at her mercy.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” apologized Chloe, surprised by his reaction. “You know this isn’t your fault, do you?”

His laughter was hollow and dark, “I know, but it is foolish to think they arbitrarily chose LA to be the city protected in the name of Samael.”

“Agreed,” Bianchi chimed in. “So let’s get to work. There were no deaths last night, but there is no guarantee we’ll be that lucky tonight.”

They had no suspects and few leads. Their only progress the entire morning was Dr. Foster putting together a list of appropriate local psychologists and psychiatrists that could contribute to the case. Based on previous experience working with the LAPD and her recently acquired, quite impressive knowledge regarding delusions based around religious frevor (“brushing up on her Sunday school” according to Morningstar), they approached Dr. Linda Martin, a competent lady who did not only have Chloe’s respect but also Morningstar’s. Together with Dr. Foster, the two soon put together a fair idea what kind of people would join a cult like _Gomorrah’s Fall_. Dr. Martin also suggested that they should reach out to local churches.

“I am fully aware of clergy-penitent privilege,” explained Dr. Martin. “However, priests may disclose information they hear outside of confession. Both of these cults used to be closed communities, but I think that, after the old leadership crumbled and the successors witnessed the old systems fall, they decided to leave their old, isolated lives behind and partially reintegrated with society. However, that means that – while members of the cult may go to their own church, it is also very likely that they would go to other churches to confess sins they would not want their own community to know. I use the term ‘confession’ quite loosely here. That could be a simple request for guidance and quite informal, but some statements may be alarming for a clergyman.”

“That’s the first solid idea we’ve had all day, so let’s go for that,” Dan shrugged and took the phone in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important changes to canon:  
> In order to involve Linda in the case (mostly because yet another OC would’ve been a bit much and because I love Linda), let’s pretend that she consulted the LAPD outside of Chloe & Lucifer, and that the episode 8 episode happened earlier, so that Chloe knows she’s competent and not just one of Lucifer’s lovers.
> 
>  
> 
> References:
> 
> Abby is a nod to Abigail “Abby” Sciuto from NCIS, but this is not a crossover.  
> Penelope is a nod to Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds, but this is not a crossover.
> 
> ‘Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad” - Listen to my word, come back to [the] light  
> (http://www.elvish.org/gwaith/movie_fotr.htm)
> 
> Next up:  
> A Father Frank Lawrence reports the arrival of some very lost sheep in his church.


	11. A Hellish Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Frank joins the case. He immediately suffers from the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support. I will reply to your comments soon, but figured that you might prefer a new chapter over my babbling...

They received two calls in the afternoon after reaching out to several churches in the city, but while the reports were suspicious, the descriptions of the people were insufficient to get a solid lead. By the end of the day, everybody was a bit frustrated by their lack of success. Thankfully, the NYPD had brought in one person for questioning thanks to Dr. Martin’s idea.

It was evening and time to call it a day when one of the officers told her that a priest was asking for her. Unwilling to subject yet another clergyman to Lucifer – how was it humanly possible to be banned from a _church_? Though if she was honest, it was not just Lucifer’s behavior; both Pastor Hayman and Father Mallard had rejected the man before he even opened his mouth – she had the priest brought to the interrogation room where she would ask her questions together with Special Agent Simmons.

Father Frank Lawrence was on the taller side, fit, and strong. He emitted warmth, compassion and calm in a way that reminded Chloe of one of her Dad’s old partners who had been of similar built, always with a look of genuine amusement on his face, while his eyes were always sad. Chloe briefly wondered if a priest had to witness as many tragedies as a police officer or if a personal tragedy had befallen this man to wear such an expression.

“Father, would you mind telling us why you’re here?” asked Simmons.

“A couple of weeks ago, a couple joined my church. Anna and Tobias Thornton. They were quite pleasant though a bit unusual, simultaneously very conversant and ignorant in terms of the bible. When I asked them about their previous church, they told me that they were members of Michael’s flock, as in the archangel Michael, and that they were sent here in his name to support Samael’s flock. This is very surprising, because… Well, I’m not sure how much you-“

“We know that Samael was the devil’s name before he was cast out of Heaven,” Simmons cut him off, though remaining polite.

“Exactly, and the few who know the devil’s old name are usually well-informed about his identity, but when I pressed them on that, they became very agitated and claimed that this was all part of the Adversary’s plan. That the Adversary was not a fallen angel but a demon in disguise and that no angel could ever fall from grace for not only are they celestial beings but the true sons of God and as such, infallible,” continued Father Lawrence. “This conversation was very strange, but they happily participated in mass, were quite devout and I saw no reason not to grant them my church as a place of worship.”

“Then why are you coming to us?”

“Last Sunday, one of my regulars, Andrea, returned from vacation with her wife. The Thorntons were quite shocked to see them in my church and started debating their presence before uttering actual threats and hurling insults. First, I tried to reason with them, but it escalated quickly and they called me yet another servant of the Adversary disguised as an emissary of God. They left the church soon after. There was no violence, but when the LAPD reached out, I knew that this could be relevant.”

“It actually is, Father, thank you. Do you have any idea where they live or where they’re from?”

“They said that they had left their flock in New York, so I assume that’s where they’re from. They simply told me that they lived nearby my church. I can give you a description if you like.”

“Thank you, Father Lawrence-“

“Father Frank, please, if you must,” the genteel priest smiled.

“Well, well, well, padre,” an all too familiar voice whispered mockingly, and Chloe shot out of her seat only to see Lucifer emerge from the shadows of the interrogation room. How he got in here without her noticing, she had no idea. Simmons, as stoic as he was, also looked like he was suffering from a mild heart attack.

“Lucifer!” she hissed, but the man ignored her.

“Are my ears deceiving me? What would the Almighty say? Does Scripture not teach us that ‘ _the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God,_ ’ 1 Corinthians 6:9-10. How can you let them into your church? Or is it because they’re females? Or because you think you can rid them of their sins?“ his eyes were steadily trained on the priest who met Lucifer’s dark eyes without hesitation.

“I was the one to marry them. I personally believe that the term ‘homosexual offender’ refers to a master having sex with slaves or adult men with young boys as was practiced many years ago-“

“I’m surprised you would protest about the latter, padre,” scoffed Lucifer, not at all convinced, and Chloe had the urge to elbow him, but he was too far away. Like cat on the prowl, Lucifer stepped around the table to face Father Frank.

“You will forgive me for not dignifying this with a response, Mr.-“

“Lucifer Morningstar,” the tall man challenged.

“Ah, Mr. Morningstar,” Father Frank nodded, offering his hand, but Lucifer looked at the hand disparagingly and did not return the gesture. The man pulled the hand back, the hint of a smile still present, his eyes still warm.

“Well, I’ve got more. What about _‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination’_? Leviticus 18:22 is quite clear, wouldn’t you say?” Chloe wondered what Lucifer’s angle was or whether he just wanted to antagonize the priest.

Thankfully, he did not let himself be provoked and merely replied firmly, “Again, this does not coincide with the modern understanding of homosexuality, which is the love of two consenting adults of the same sex in a respectful, meaningful relationship.”

“No, not really,” Lucifer chuckled dismissively. “That is just as religious, unrealistic humbug as chastity or monogamy. Thank you, however, for now including the LGBTQ community in your advertisments, I’m sure the Almighty One will commend you for drawing more gullible idiots to his teachings. The concepts of monogamy and chastity are really just there to make you as a human being more miserable and to make you feel guilty so you turn to religion for guidance. What you are right about, and the key-term in your entire statement, is consent. Informed consent, that is. That can simply be a quick shag in a club or a friends-with-benefits arrangement or, as you called it, a _respectful, meaningful relationship_. But what would your boss say if he knew you betrayed two of his sheep to the police? What kind of shepard brings his flock to the wolves?”

“Lucifer,” Chloe warned, louder this time, but Lucifer’s little mind game already captivated the priest, his face slack and his eyes drawn to the club owner.

“God would understand that,” he began haltingly, obviously fighting the pull, “in order to protect the rest of my flock and to protect the Thorntons from committing crimes, I did the right thing. I won’t divulge anything brought up in confession.” The look of pure shock in his eyes indicated that he had not meant to bring up that last sentence.

“And we will not ask you to, Father,” said Chloe firmly, glaring at her semi-but-not-quite- -partner warningly.

“Would you mind telling me what to look for in newcomers? I do not wish to be suspicious of every new soul that knocks on the Lord’s doors looking for guidance.”

They gave him a bit more information, saying that there was a series of violent crimes committed against the LA’s LGBT community and that they had evidence that there was a religious motive to these terrible acts and some minor details regarding the cult they were investigating. Father Frank looked quite crestfallen at that.

“Are you saying that these two men that were found just one block away from my church were murdered because…” he halted, his eyes wide with horror.

“Well, Sean Peters was, yes,” Lucifer no longer smiled as he spoke. His dark eyes were cold and merciless. “The other one was just caught in the crossfire of that cult’s hatred.”

“Dear God, how horrific!” breathed the other man.

“He has nothing to do with that,” Lucifer hissed. “Just humans and the foolish belief that they can properly interpret the will of God. Nothing bad ever came out of that, right?”

“Did you know Mr. Peters personally?” asked Father Frank instead of reacting to the would-be devil’s antagonism.

“Yes, he was one of my lovers. Really sweet soul, knew how to draw out pleasure to the point where you wanted to beg for release, but he would always give it just at the right moment.” Chloe shook her head knowing he was going for one final shock moment, but Father Frank’s expression transformed into one of sympathy.

“I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Morningstar.”

Lucifer scoffed, but did not comment before he said, “Condolences don’t mean anything. He’s gone, snuffed out of this world for committing the sole crime of desiring and loving someone of their own gender. As little as I think of your boss, not even He is cruel enough to punish someone for that.” Then he frowned. “What would you be sorry for, anyway? You didn’t commit the murders, you don’t even condone them.”

“If I had gone to the police earlier-“

“Then what? This is not _1984_ , padre,” contradicted Lucifer coolly. “We only punish the crimes that were committed. Believing that we can prevent them is an illusion. Free will of mankind and all that. Besides, your little sheep may have done nothing and are simply part of the cult that committed the crimes.” He paused for a second. “You may be in danger, though. Traitors of the Divine are often treated more cruelly and less mercifully than an actual enemy. If they perceive you, a supposed emissary of God and of the angels they worship, as a sinner willingly encouring his flock to commit what they think is a deadly sin, they may seek retribution.”

Simmons, who had remained quiet throughout the entire exchange, looked quite aghast. “That is actually a good point. I think we should increase police presence around Father Frank’s church in addition to the clubs. Detective Decker, would you mind dropping off Father Lawrence on your way home? I am sure I could organize-“

“No, sure. That’s not a problem. Father Frank, if you don’t mind?”

“It would be appreciated. I came here by bus and, well, I believe God wanted to give me a lesson in patience,” chuckled the priest.

“Patience is not exactly my father’s virtue, either, padre,” Lucifer countered in that annoyed tone only reserved for people who had views that collided with his delusions.

“Will you join us, too?” asked Father Frank curiously.

“Well, your church is practically on the way from the precinct to my club, so yes, I will definitely come with you. You’ll forgive me, I’m sure, for not stopping on my way, though,” sneered Lucifer.

“Of course,” replied Father Frank neutrally.

When they left the interrogation room, an unexpected ‘Lucifer!’ squeal had them all turn around. The big, bad devil drew back when Trixie’s body collided with his. His arms were stiffly pressed to his sides, careful not to touch Chloe’s daughter.

“Thank you, Lucifer, thank you for the song! Ms. Rollings loved it and said that this was one of the prettiest songs she’s ever heard in her life, and everybody else asked whether I speak French. It was really, really cool. I was so much cooler than all the girls that chose _‘Let it Go’_. Even Steve said he liked it, and he never says anything. He’s like the best in our class, and very cool-“

Chloe could see her partner very slowly processing the onslaught of information she gave him.

“I’m glad to hear that you and your fellow spawns have an adequate taste in music, Child,” was the very formal reply. Lucifer was leaning back to get out of Trixie’s reach, without pushing her away. Chloe caught a glimpse of Father Frank who chuckled genially.

“What song did you choose?” he asked inquisitively. Trixie hesitated. She was taught not to talk to strangers, especially not at the precinct unless they were wearing police uniform, but he was wearing formal clothing so Trixie was unsure how to proceed. Chloe immediately introduced her to Father Frank, so she happily told him about her assignment and how Lucifer helped her find the right song.

“Oh, Édith Piaf was a true star, wonderful singer. Excellent choice,” Father Frank smiled at her. He had kneeled down to meet her at eye level and Trixie was a goner.

“Do you like music?” she asked, to which Father Frank just chuckled.

“Do I like music? Oh, Trixie, it is my joy, my solace and my greatest friend. I was a musician long before I became a servant of God, and,” he whispered as if sharing a secret with her, “I must admit that it’s my favorite part of a sermon. Sitting down to play, that’s what I truly excel at.” Chloe smiled at his genuine enthusiasm. She noted that Lucifer was listening very carefully, though his expression was neutral.

“Oh, do you play the organ yourself?” asked Trixie, barely containing her excitiment.

“Just once a week, I’m afraid,” smiled the priest. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

“Can you play something for me? Mom, can we go to his church? I really want to hear him play the organ,” she pleaded. “Today, Ms. Rollings told us about the piano and the organ and I love these instruments.”

“Well, if your mother-“

“Mom, please!”

“It’s Daddy’s decision, honey,” said Chloe looking over to Dan whose face spoke of heartbreak. She knew that their separation hit him harder because Trixie was mostly at her place – mainly because his apartment was tiny and not really fit for their daughter and because they did not want to disrupt Trixie’s life too much - and he hardly ever got to see her. Tonight would have been his night with her.

“Where’s your church, Father?” asked Dan.

Upon hearing the address, he realized that it was situated much closer to Chloe’s house than his apartment. Reluctantly, he agreed, though Trixie would never know how much he was struggling to say ‘yes’. He insisted on driving her to the church and later to her mom’s. It would be his only opportunity at bonding time with his daughter. Trixie immediately agreed and ran toward the exit. Dan followed her quickly.

“I do not wish to cause any disruption to your routine,” said Father Frank, having picked up on the tension and the fact that they were separated. He was remarkably non-judgmental about it all, however.

“It’s alright, Father Frank, Dan and I don’t tend to listen to a lot of music, though we enjoy it when presented with the opportunity. However, we realized lately that we’ve failed to notice Trixie’s deep love for it, and now we want to encourage her,” explained Chloe truthfully.

On their way to the car lot with Lucifer heading in the same direction, Chloe thought about the potential dangers Father Frank was facing.

“Have you thought about living elsewhere until this case is over, Father Frank? Are there any friends you could stay with in the meantime?” she asked.

“I’m not afraid of that cult and I don’t fear the evil they represent,” replied the priest firmly. “Besides, the church is my sanctuary. In many ways, it is the only home I’ve ever had that was not a person.”

“How come?” asked Lucifer after remaining silent for a remarkable number of minutes. Chloe had the urge to congratulate him on his silence, but it would disrupt the conversation and she was curious.

Father Frank chuckled, his eyes both sad and fond, “One could say that I was born under a wandering star. I was a traveling musician, opening for Dylan, Bowie, the Stones-“

“The Rolling Stones?” Astonished and impressed, Lucifer reevaluated the musician-turned-priest. This time Chloe wanted to congratulate Father Frank for earning an ounce of respect from the club owner, but again she did not say anything, because Lucifer continued. “ _Who_ was your home during that exhilarating time?”

“My daughter,” answered the priest and awful realization hit Chloe long before he continued. She listened with trepidation already suspecting where that ever-present sadness came from. “She was always with me. She was an unplanned gift from God-“ Chloe actually elbowed Lucifer when he scoffed. Did the man not see what happened? How could he not know? Or did he simply not care? “Her mother was not ready to have children, so she was mine and mine alone from day she was born to…” his voice broke and Chloe felt tears prickling in her eyes. “She died in a car accident, 10 years ago. She was nine.” The homicide detective felt her chest tighten painfully and she wanted to go after Trixie, embrace her and never let go off her. She could not even begin to imagine the pain the man had to go through and she viciously reprimanded Lucifer for instigating a discussion about the priest’s devotion to God. Father Frank did not seem to mind, though. Instead, he bantered with the other man, challenging him to see who the better piano player was, which earned him an open invitation to Lux and the glum moment was over. Chloe wondered if this was Lucifer’s intent, but she was not sure; she could never be sure when it came to the club owner.

Only a few minutes later, they were alone in the car and Chloe suddenly realized that Lucifer’s presence had been like a buffer, and she had no idea how not to bring up the man’s daughter. Thankfully, Father Frank saved her by asking her about Trixie. It seemed cruel to bring up her beloved girl if he could not be with his, but she complied. She also told him about her father, though she did not know why. There was something about him that made Father Frank very easy to talk to.

The sirens of the LA Fire Department derailed their conversation.

“What-?” she began, but Father Frank gasped.

“They’re driving toward the church.”

She turned on the siren and hit the gas pedal. Not two minutes later they saw the LAFD setting up their equipment. Smoke rose from the church and parts of it were ablaze.

Father Frank left the car before it stopped and ran toward the entrance. At the last minute, two firemen were able to prevent him from going inside.

“Sir, you have to stay outside!”

“No, you don’t understand. Robert is in there, I let him sle-“

“Father, we are aware that there are people inside, but you going in will just give us one more person to save. You can only help us by remaining calm.”

Chloe grimly introduced herself with rank and department and gently guided Father Frank away. He drifted to a man who was standing a bit away from the onlookers.

“Marshall, what happened?” asked Frank.

“I don’t know, Father. There was a sound like an explosion and these kids who’d been smoking outside the club just ran to the church because they’d earlier seen a man enter. I tried to stop ‘em, but-“

“Marshall, you did what you could,” Father Frank soothed him calmly. “You called the Fire Department, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Father, I did.”

“And as such, you’ve also done your part. What else happened?”

“I don’t really know-I-some expensive car stopped, the door opened, and some guy in a suit emerged, but then I blinked-I just blinked-and he was gone. I don’t kn-“

The doors of the church crashed open with a bang and flames emerged as a wave before they inexplicably snuffed out. A moment later, a familiar figure left the burning building. Four young adults, two men and two women, with strips of a shirt covering their mouths and noses all held onto Lucifer. One of the men had a dog secured in his shirt. The club owner himself was carrying the, hopefully only unconscious, body, of a big man.

Within seconds, firemen approached them and they guided them to an ambulance standing by, EMTs ready for action. A burly fireman who shared remarkable resemblence to a grizzly bear offered to carry the unconscious body; Lucifer complied, but quickly reaffirmed his grip when the by far taller and supposedly stronger man nearly collapsed under the weight. He then put the unconscious man on the stretcher himself. Chloe and Father Frank quickly made their way over to him, but by the time they were at the ambulance, he was already gone.

“What the hell-?”

Father Frank instead, folded his hands, praised God and thanked him for his help before crossing himself.

“The patient’s name is Robert McGregor,” said Father Frank addressing the EMTs. “How is he?”

“He’s alive, but we’ll know more once we brought him to the hospital. There are no burns, but his lungs have been comprimised.”

“He’s suffering from stage 3 lung cancer,” replied Father Frank grimly, “and he’s repeatedly suffered from pneumonia, especially in the winter. He’s so terrified of suffocating,” he added, looking quite distressed.

“Thank you for the information. We’re bringing him to hospital right now,” said the EMT as he packed things up. “Another ambulance will be picking up his saviors in a minute. They have to be checked out.”

“We’ll make sure they are, thank you,” said one of the firemen. Once the ambulance was gone, he muttered. “Now where’s that freakishly strong guy? He needs to be checked out, too.”

“Other side of the church where the fire is blazing the worst. Looks like he’s praying,” says another nameless fireman. “Scary, though. Wouldn’t want to disturb him.”

Both Father Frank and Chloe wordlessly went in the direction where they would find Lucifer, but Father Frank was stopped by one of the police officers on scene who had to ask a couple of questions. Chloe assured the officer that Father Frank was at the LAPD precinct when the fire broke out before she continued to look for Lucifer.

The fireman was right. He was a frightening sight. The flames eluminated his face that made him appear distinctly inhuman. His hands were slightly spread, his eyes closed and slightly tilted as if directed at the sky.

“You should leave, Detective,” said he, his voice deep and uncharacteristically cold. “I have not seen your Spawn on scene, but that is no guar-“

She already had her phone out and walked away quickly.

_Trixie._

How could she have forgotten? Even for a second? She had been with Dan, so Trixie was as safe as she could be, but still, Chloe needed to talk to her right now.

 _“Chloe, I just wanted to call you. We’ve arrived at your place,”_ said Dan soothingly after having picked up the phone at the first ring. _“I saw the Fire Department and decided not to stop.”_

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Where’s Trixie?”

 _“In her room, angry with me,”_ replied Dan, entirely resigned. Chloe heard him knock on a door.

“ _Go away!”_

_“Trixie…”_

_“No! You don’t like any of my new friends. First, Lucifer, now Father Frank!”_

_“Trixie, me and your mom just want you to be safe-“_ Dan began, trying to be reasonable.

_“No!”_

_“Trixie, your mom’s on the phone and she wants to talk to you_.”

There was a moment of silence before Chloe heard the door open and a sniffling voice called her by her favorite title.

“ _Mom_?”

“Hey, monkey,” said the homicide detective gently, unable to smile reassuringly even though her girl could not see her. “Don’t be angry with your Dad. He did everything right. It’s a very scary scene and Father Frank would have been very distressed if you got hurt.”

 _“He won’t play the organ for me now, will he?”_ Trixie stated, and though Chloe could not see her, she just knew how her lower lip trembled from distress.

“He will play for you, I am sure of it, but not tonight,” she tried to reassure her daughter. “His home is on fire, but thankfully, nobody was hurt. Lucifer saved a man’s life today,” she continued, hoping that mentiong one of her daughter’s favorite adults would cheer her up a bit.

 _“Lucifer’s there?”_ asked her little girl hopefully.

“Yes.”

 _“Oh, then everything will be fine.”_ The confidence and sheer faith – for lack of a better word – she had in the man, was frightening.

“What do you mean?” asked Chloe.

 _“He’s the devil, duh!”_ stated Trixie, annoyed that she had to explain. _“He’ll make sure nobody gets hurt.”_

“I see,” Chloe replied numbly, unable to process what she just heard. She would have to talk to Lucifer to make sure he did not fill her daughter’s head with his delusions of grandeur. “Monkey, why don’t you and Dad cuddle up on the couch until I return. We’ll all have a sleepover tonight.”

_“’kay, Mom. Bye!”_

_“Chloe?”_ Dan inquired hesitantely.

“Stay in the guestroom tonight, please,” she asked him. She wanted her family to be safe, especially now. Dan assured her that he would and soon after, they hung up their phones. By the time she returned to the scene, the fire was miraculously under control, though they would stay to make sure there were no additional fires, and Father Frank would not be able to stay in his personal rooms.

“It’s a miracle that nothing worse happened. There was a gas leak, but it did not catch fire. There is extensive damage, but not irreparable one from what we could see. God definitely looked out for you and this church, Father,” said the LAFD lieutenant on scene.

Lucifer just scoffed at that, “Hardly.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Miller, I believe you’re right,” agreed Father Frank confidently.

“Do you have anywhere to stay, Father Frank?” asked Chloe once Lieutenant Miller left.

“Yes, I can-“

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Lucifer interrupted, irritated. “I have more space than I know what to do with. You can look for a more permanent residence tomorrow.”

Father Frank smiled and thanked him politely.

“Don’t be too smug about it, padre. It’s a favor and I always call them in at one point or another.” There was a moment’s pause before he said, “I’m sorry about your Bechstein. It looked like a marvelous instrument.”

“I thought you were the one who mentioned that apologies for events you did not cause were not necessary,” the priest reminded him gently. “Thank you, nevertheless. She was.”

“By the time I arrived, most of it was already destroyed. They targeted your quarters first.” He reached into his suit and pulled out a cracked photo frame and what looked like sheet music. “These looked precious, though.”

Gently, Father Frank took his personal effects from the supposed devil’s hands. A sob escaped him when the frame revealed a photo of him, several years younger, smiling happily. Beside him in the photo was a little girl who looked equally joyful. Chloe felt her eyes fill with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2015/06/05/us/samesex-scriptures.html (The short bible discussion Lucifer and Father Frank)  
> https://blog.smu.edu/ot8317/2016/05/11/leviticus-1822/ (The short bible discussion Lucifer and Father Frank)
> 
>  
> 
> Next up: Lucifer contemplates the irrationality of human tears and what to do with a priest in his home. He has a few ideas.


	12. The Devil Is My Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer takes in a homeless priest, Mazikeen finally expresses her desires and a dream from the past unsettles the fallen angel quite a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, guys! Your support is amazing and writing this story is truly rewarding.

Lucifer would never understand the deal with humans and tears. They cried with so little provocation and out of so many reasons: sadness, anger, pain, because they were upset, but also as the result of positive emotions like happiness, after an orgasm, from laughter. Appreciating chaos, he had to admit that it made them more interesting, but from an interpersonal standpoint of view, it was rather vexing.

He had made both of them cry and while part of him was a bit gleeful to have finally gotten under the annoying priest’s skin, he had to admit that he had not wished to upset him.

It did not help that every bone in his body ached. He was the devil, but he did not control fire… He could summon it, play with it, walk through it without being harmed; it was one of his preferred torture devices for the truly damned and guilty, but he did not generally snuff it out. He used to be the Light Bringer; he was not the Fire Extinguisher. Doing so was a strain on his body and it actually hurt; from what was described to him, it resembled the sore muscles one suffered after a particularly wild night of sex or after running for miles and miles (not that either option actually managed to elicit that kind of pain in him). He could not protect the children with his wings (foolish idiots! What were they thinking, running into a burning building?), so he had been forced to use other measures that were a lot more draining. What did not help was the emotional rollercoaster he went through, which he would have to mention to Dr. Linda next time he saw her. As the Detective and Father Frank knew, Lucifer had originally intended on driving directly to Lux, but then he saw the Fire Department in the vicinity of the church. He still could not identify the feeling coursing through him when he saw the fire consuming Father Frank’s home: his chest had tightened uncomfortably, and there was that strange sensation as if his whole body was being pricked by pins and needles once he realized that there were people inside of the church about to be burned alive. He had left the car and entered the church before he knew what was going on.

And now, here he was, after successfully making two people cry, which, again, should actually fill him with glee and pride to have successfully upset the priest, but instead he felt like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin away from this…sadness.

“Thank you,” whispered the priest. “Thank you.”

“Right,” stated Lucifer unsurely, before he pulled up the mask of nonchalance he had honed to the point of perfection he almost believed it himself. “Well, let’s go, padre. The night’s still young and I have a club to run.” He bid his farewell to the Detective who could not wait to go home. She patted his shoulder fondly and whispered ‘It’s a good thing you’re doing here, Lucifer. Thank you’ into his ear, which made him feel both self-concious and kind of happy. It took at least half an hour before they could leave the scene, because many of Father Frank’s sheep arrived in order to bemoan the near-destruction of the church. It irritated Lucifer; nobody was hurt, the only thing that was damaged was the building itself. While he felt sympathy for the losses Father Frank had suffered (he briefly imagined the books in his penthouse burning to ash, and shuddered vowing that he would improve fire safety in the club first thing tomorrow), it was kind of hypocritical of the priest’s parishioners to cry over destroyed walls and _things_ when so many people were hurt every day, even only here, in LA, their home, but nobody cared for departed souls like Ali Thornton or Delilah or Sean Peters. They were already gone and forgotten. Before he lost his patience and viciously snarled at the phony little sheep, Father Frank gathered them around him and asked them to honor those who had lost their lives to violence. The words loosened the tension in Lucifer’s chest.

“Let us remember that a church can be rebuilt; it’s just bricks and stones. A piano can be replaced; our personal belongings… while precious, should never take precedence over a human life. You’ve all met Bob; he stays here often enough. His life was saved thanks to the bravery of a group of young people who were attentive enough to have seen him enter before the fire started. They cared; they cared enough to also save Charlie the Dog. Mr. Morningstar here not only selflessly brought them all to safety, but he also opened his home for me,” Father Frank gave him a respectful nod. “I believe that an angel watched over us tonight.”

_Oh, if only you knew which angel helped tonight, and you would run for the hills._

He had noticed that those who truly believed, which often included his father’s baby shepards, generally had a vague suspicion who he was, and they tended to realize he was not lying or delusional when he called himself the devil, but Father Frank’s reaction to him was all wrong. He could not possibly know.

“This community, this neighborhood, our city has lost two men to hatred only two days ago, their names were Sean Peters and-“ he halted looking to Lucifer for information.

“John Richards,” he supplied.

“John Richards,” Father Frank repeated. “We should remember and honor their lives that were cut short because of ignorance and hatred. This church will be rebuilt and if not, we will find a proper place to honor the Lord. Let us carry John and Sean in our hearts rather than grieve the destruction of a soulless structure.”

Then he briefly spoke a prayer and gently disbanded the group of people around him, rebuffing at least four offers of alternative shelter. When they were by the car, Lucifer decided to mention that, “You know, I think Mrs. Madison is quite wealthy if you’re only sticking with me for earthly comfort and money. Given how she looked at me, she’s up for anything in case you’re interested.”

Father Frank chuckled, “No, thank you. I would not keep you from contributing to the needs of the saint.”

Really? Was the man testing just how much he knew about the bible? Father Frank would have to come up with a more obscure reference than paraphrasing Romans 12:13.

“Well, you know, just following the old rules: ’ _The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’_ No, wait, I’m sorry, wrong book. I meant _, ‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’_ “

“Ah, Romans 12:20,” laughed Father Frank and he sounded genuinely entertained, which was quite remarkable given he had just lost everything he owned. “Good one. I am grateful that God advised me to come to the precinct today. Without your help, Bob and these young people would not have survived. I thank you for your physical help and I thank God for setting up this path.”

Now he could not suppress the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped into his car.

“I can guarantee that God did not put me on this path, unless this current track is the literal road back to Hell,” Lucifer scoffed. “That is the only path he has ever had in mind for me.” He started the car and the roaring of the engine tuned out Father Frank’s response.

“Sorry,” Lucifer grinned. “You were saying?”

“Yet, here you are, offering shelter to a homeless priest,” Father Frank smiled.

“Oh, don’t make me stop this car and make you walk,” Lucifer sniped, half-annoyed, half-amused by the man’s faith.

“And if I came to your place knocking on your door, would you let me in?” asked the priest in return facing Lucifer who turned his head sideways, so he could both focus on the road and look this strange man in the eyes.

“You definitely have a higher chance of being let in if you’re knocking on my door than me knocking on Heaven’s door,” Lucifer retorted.

“I think the odds are in my favor,” Father Frank concurred. “After all, you gave your word.”

“Isn’t the devil the father of all lies?” the actual devil asked derisively. Of all the things he hated, being perceived as a liar was the worst punishment.

Followed by that weird goat thing.

“I don’t believe that,” contradicted the priest gently. “If anything, you have been painfully honest with us. When you make a promise, you keep it.”

All Lucifer could say to that was, “My word is my bond.”

It was his only prayer; it was not a prayer to Dad or his siblings or even himself. This was his vow, his entire being, his Light.

In the history of time, he had worn many colors, born many names and completed many tasks.

From Light Bringer to the master of Hellfire.

From Heaven’s brightest angel to the Lord of Hell.

From being one of Heaven’s strongest warriors – the Poison, God’s Knife – to being its greatest foe.

In all this time, there were only two constants: he was the punisher unable to say anything but the truth unless the lie was spoken in jest.

He sent a brief mocking thought skyward, _“Alright, Dad, I’ll take in your homeless, broken priest.”_ And the man was broken in so many ways it was difficult to bear, and yet, it was remarkably how bright he still was. _“I’ll add it to my pile of You-Owe-Me’s. Beware, Father, for one day, I will collect my debt, and you better pay up.”_

They arrived at the club soon after. Throwing his keys at Kyle who caught them effortlessly, he led the priest into his home. His staff looked at him strangely, but they knew his eccentricities too well to actually question him. Patrick tilted his head slightly in confusion when he saw them step onto the staircase that would lead them to the bar. He could not see Mazikeen, but he knew she would not be happy about this. Instead of worrying about pissing off Hell’s most skillful torturer, he let the music and the warmth of Lux cover him like a blanket. He could almost forget that he smelled like something scraped from a chimney.

His bartender poured them two glasses, and could not help but ask, “Is everything alright, boss?”

“Thanks, Patrick, I’m fine. This is Father Frank Lawrence. He just lost his home and all of his belongings and will be staying here at the club for a while.” Now that he said it, he realized his recently (as in the last six years) acquired tendency to pick up strays. He may not be evil, but he sure as hell was not a saint either, so why he would follow his father’s decrees regarding hospitality was a bit of a mystery. Patrick’s eyes softened and he smiled at Lucifer fondly. Father Frank’s expression mirrored his bartender’s and Lucifer wanted to snarl something, but thankfully, a very irate demon appeared by his side.

“Where were you?”

“Saving a couple of souls from leaving the earthly plane,” replied Lucifer nonchalantly.

Mazikeen actually growled in disapproval. “And what is the priest doing here?”

“He’ll be staying in the guest room for a while,” answered Lucifer. “Mazikeen, meet Father Frank Lawrence, Father Frank, meet Maze, my most trusted advisor.”

Pleasant as ever, the priest offered his hand, but Maze glared at him viciously.

“What are you thinking?!” she hissed angrily, pulling him to the side and out of earshot. “A priest? Staying here at Lux? Why do you care about a priest? You hate priests and all the other selfish hypocrites that is the clergy. Have you forgotten how many of them we tortured? Those who wrote and executed the teachings of the Witch Hammer? The crusaders? All those monsters who traumatized little boys and those who helped hide the culprits?” Mazikeen was especially creative when it came to punishment of pedophiles; a lot of his demons were, really, but Mazikeen especially so. She developed a deep hatred for those who used their position of power to manipulate those that should be in their care.

“We’re only responsible for our own actions, and Father Frank has not committed these crimes,” Lucifer contradicted calmly.

“That’s big coming from the original sin-eater; the Lord of Hell who pays for every atrocity humanity has ever committed,” she sneered cruelly. “The only one to pay for angelic pride.”

“Careful, Maze,” warned Lucifer, eyes glowing red, Hellfire so close to the surface he could feel it crackling under his fingers. The ache in his muscles disappeared and some of his fatigue lessened. He reveled in the feeling. “Pride is the vice of angels, true, but demons are not free from it either. You’re accusing me of welcoming a pedophile into my home. Is that truly what you think I’m capable of? Have we been away from Hell for too long? What do I do to rapists and pedophiles? I was the one to create an entire section specifically designed for them.”

Maze gritted her teeth and she lifted her chin defiantely, “I just wanted to remind you who you’re supposed to be.”

Anger lashed out like whip and without making a single physical move toward her she took an instinctive step back.

“ _E tu_ , Mazikeen?” Lucifer whispered. “Stop presuming you know my role here on Earth,” he warned. He loved her; since his banishment, she was the only family he had and she was loyal to him; for now. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re colluding with my brother to get me back to Hell.” Really, he may have been distracted, but a lot of people in this city owed him a lot of favors. Did she honestly think nobody would notice her talking to a rather noticable man about her boss in less than gentle terms? He had received two calls from that café where she had met Amenadiel; one for a favor; the other to pay their IOU. “You are free to find your own place either here or in Hell; stay here, find your place elsewhere or ask my brother to take you back. Amenadiel’s currently patrolling the outside of Hell’s gates.” He chuckled at that. “I wonder how long it takes until the idiot realizes that things are taken care of. It’s gonna take at least another ten Earth years before the structures I built will start to crumble, unless somebody’s actively manipulating them. Dad will either have to find a replacement for me by then or-” He was on vacation. He never wanted to return, was hellbent (pun intended) on calling his time in LA retirement, but he was under no illusions that the Almighty One himself would never respond to his current rebellion and ban him to rule Hell yet again.

The frustrating thing about it all was that Dad did not even have to lift a finger. All he had to do was to wait. Earth would be first affected by Hell’s uprising, and Lucifer would step up, because everybody else would find the task distasteful.

And the devil always pays his due.

She knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. Her eyes softened in a very human way; a habit she had picked up long before they left Hell, and the reason he had taken her with him to begin with.

“Until the end, Lucifer,” she vowed. “But…” She hesitated. “I think I need a vacation, too.”

His body already hurt, but now he felt like his heart was threatening to break into million little pieces. A part of him wanted to force her to stay, the only family that was never supposed to leave him; she who had vowed to stay with him until the end of time. She was right, however. He had known that she was unhappy here at Lux, but it seemed like she was starting to realize it as well, and now let him know her desire.

She had no soul. She had to tell him what she wanted.

And now she did.

“What’s a-“ he wanted to quib something along the lines of ‘ _what’s a millenia or two between friends?’_ but he knew what that was: estrangement, loneliness, family believing that you were a monster, and he could not bring himself to finish the sentence. He simply asked, “How long?”

Mazikeen’s eyes brightened and he was both glad and sorry to realize that this was not any easier for her.

“I don’t know,” she chuckled helplessly trying for demonic nonchalance and failing as spectacularly as he was at anything angelic; Dear Dad, they were a pair. “A year? A decade? How long does it take until you’re your own person?”

“Decade, definitely,” replied Lucifer ruefully, “It’s been six years and I’m still figuring that out. You might want to go for a therapist right away and it might take less time.” Hungrily, Mazikeen smiled. “Going there for actual _therapy_ , Maze, not _doing the therapist_ ,” Lucifer grinned. The implication of what she just said, hit him, “Wait, you’re staying here on Earth?”

His demon nodded decidedly, “I’m not letting your brother carry me down to the Gates in bridal style.”

“Fair enough. Alright,” he nodded to himself. “Let’s make a deal. You stay here until _Gomorrah’s Fall_ has been incapacitated. I need this club protected when I’m not around and there is nobody I would trust more to do this than you. After that, you’re free to do whatever you please short of actually killing people and harming innocents.” Her brown eyes glimmered dangerously. “Of course, you may stay until you have your own place and you’re always welcome. Drinks and meals free of charge.” She smiled. “Go find your place in the world. The club’s mine.” It was also a warning. He would indulge in her desires, but he would not let her take the club or anything connected to it.

“Deal,” she agreed. She was about to walk away, but he called her back. He took out his Pentecostal coin and gave it to her.

“If you want to go home. Don’t forget that it’s a one-way trip and I won’t be able to get you back.”

She stared at him, “What about you?”

“Heaven will move Earth to help me return to Hell when I ask for it,” Lucifer chuckled. “They won’t offer you the same courtesy.”

Her fingers tightened around the coin, “Thank you.”

“I’ll miss you, Mazikeen,” was all he said; he meant it. She pressed her lips together, but did not say anything. She just turned and left, shoulders stiff and Lucifer wondered if he should have asked her to stay.

“Everything alright?” asked Father Frank, genuinely concerned. It was quite baffling to witness.

“Yes,” answered Lucifer, his muscles throbbing so much, it felt like his bones hurt. “I’m just getting a headache from all the changes I’ve been through lately.”

“Life’s like that sometimes. Life can feel like we’re caught in a raging river, but we are always washed into calmer waters eventually,” said the priest serenely and Lucifer scoffed.

“Or we drown.”

“I don’t believe that. If the torrent is too strong, we just need people to throw a lifeline,” continued Father Frank, and his deep voice, as calm and steadfast as his face, was oddly soothing.

“What if you’re not strong enough to hold on?” asked Lucifer, thinking of Delilah and how she had wanted to turn her life around, but would never get the chance to, because she was murdered for no other motive than greed. He had thrown the lifeline then, he realized, but it turned out to be worthless.

“Then others will help you build a boat and will braven the waters by your side,” answered Father Frank.

This time, Lucifer laughed coldly, “Right, of course. Who’s ‘people’, then?”

He shook his head when Father replied with the usual ‘family and friends’ platitude.

Family? They stand by doing nothing when you Fall. They do not believe you when you assure them that all you wanted was free will and that you have no plans to start a war; it was the first time he had ever been called a liar, and because the being saying so was supposedly omniscient, his word became Law and the Prince of Lies moniker was born. He was never the Boy Who Cried Wolf, and yet, nobody believed him. It was probably the reason why he sympathized so much with Cassandra of Troy.

And his other option?

Friends? They were altogether human (apart from the demon who had just left his service), and did not have the power to build a boat to live through the particular waters Lucifer was dealing with.

“And if they can’t?”

“Then there will always be strangers offering a helping hand,” replied Father Frank.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “And my actions just enforced this belief, didn’t they?”

And they called _him_ delusional.

“Yes, absolutely.” His dark, brown eyes held no duplicity but not blind faith either. Instead, it was a deep-seated trust that encompassed the priest’s soul, which was shining wonderfully bright in this moment, and for a second, the feeling of ease engulfed Lucifer. He did not even envy the man’s trust; he just wanted to make sure that bright light did not snuff out.

“Let me show you my guestrooms,” he offered instead of further discussing the topic. “Patrick, I’m not feeling up for a set tonight, make sure the patrons know that. If anything unusual happens, call me. My bedroom is only open to regulars tonight. Sex is not on the table.”

“Yes, Boss,” agreed Patrick.

Not five minutes later, he showed Father Frank around his temporary quarters. They were right below his and next to Mazikeen’s current rooms. It was not big, because he had noticed that temporary houseguests did not appreciate too many luxuries or too much room. It made them feel guilty. Mazikeen’s rooms made up three quarters of the floor, the guest room made up for the rest.

That reminded him that he would need a permanent resident here once Mazikeen moved out. He could not even begin to think of options.

“If you need anything, don’t go to Mazikeen’s rooms. Go one floor up, that’s where I stay, or let Patrick know. Try to avoid Maze, she has a very understandable problem with your profession.”

“Did a priest do her any harm?” The fact he meant that seriously was what made Lucifer laugh out loud.

“No, _she_ hurts _them_ ,” he replied and that was the end of the conversation.

“I’ll make sure you have some clothes.” He gave him a quick onceover. “Mine won’t fit, but-“ He took off his shoes, slid into the slippers at the entrance door, and picked up the phone by the bed and made a quick call asking Carl, one of his more experienced security guards and currently on duty, whether he would terribly mind to donate some of his clothes to a homeless priest. He would pay for it all, of course. Once he hung up the phone, he looked at Father Frank, “Carl will bring you something to wear as soon as his shift ends. There is a bathrobe in the closet that you could wear for the night. Take a shower first, though. Everything should be ready.” With a curt ‘good night’, he left the room quickly. He leaned against the wall of the elevator fatigue taking over. He managed to take a shower and then climbed into his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

_‘Well done, Samael,’ Father’s presence was as warm as the star he had just made. ‘This is your most magnificent creation yet. I think it’s a star that should be of importance. The kind of star that should be seen.”_

_Samael’s heart filled with joy. This one was his favorite star and he was happy that his father shared the sentiment._

_“By the way, Son, what is it that you’re doing when you make them? These sounds? They sound as beautiful as your stars appear. It’s not poetry, it’s not speech. What is it?”_

_Samael frowned, unsure. What was it?_

_“Light. It’s just light,” replied the young - oh-so-young he barely counted as more than a baby - angel. “I make the Light.”_

_“I know,” answered his Father. “I know, but Light we see. This we hear.”_

_“I don’t know what it is. What do you want to call it, Father?”_

_“Harmony,” replied the center of his existence gently. “Let us call it harmony.”_

_Samael did not quite agree. That did not sound right._

_“What do you want to call it, my Little One?” asked Father curiously._

_“Melody. Let’s call it a melody.”_

_Gentle laughter of absolute trust and fondness filled his being and he continued making the Light that could be heard but not seen._

_“Then a Melody it shall be. Song it will become, and ultimately, it will be known as-“ Father stopped._

_“Yes, Father?”_

_“Another day, Son. When you’re older. Where do you want to make your next star?”_

_“There.”_

_He spread his arms and wings and Light was just about to be born, when his father’s voice whispered, “Little One, you cannot make the Light here. Humans are close and they cannot bear the light.”_

_“What are humans, Father?”_

_“Samael, don’t create the Light here!”_

_“My name’s Lucifer-“_

_“Lucifer, the Light will burn the Earth!”_

With a gasp, the fallen angel woke up. Genuinely scared, he looked around, but nothing had melted, there was no sign of proton-proton, deuterium-proton or helium-helium fusion (or as he used to call it: two small marbles becoming a bigger, brighter one). There was also no sign of increased pressure or radiation. It was all fine. His patrons and his staff were safe.

He took a shaky breath.

Next time he would let the church burn to the ground. Extinguishing light was not worth the pain and the nightmares.

‘ _Was it a nightmare, really?’_ a treacherous voice asked him. ‘ _Or is it just painful in the light of day? Pun absolutely intended.’_ Great, even his inner voice was snarky.

“Is everything alright, Lucifer?” Dr. Laura’s voice had him whirl around. Simon and the doctor stood by the kitchen. “This sounded very distressing.”

“I’m okay,” breathed Lucifer. “Did I by any chance look like a human torch?” He asked, as casually as possible.

“We’re not sure,” Simon replied gently, sitting down next to him on the bed, while Dr. Laura was on the other side. “We were on your couch, but there was a flash of something before you woke up.”

“Damn it!” cursed Lucifer in frustration. Then he stared at them, realizing that they were here with him, but they had not joined him. Had they seen something that scared them off? “Did I do something?”

“Whatever do you mean, Lucifer?” asked Dr. Laura, confused.

“Why didn’t you join me on the bed?”

He must have looked as unsure as he felt, because the doctor leaned into him and hugged him sideways.

“Because you didn’t invite us,” replied Simon squeezing his shoulder gently.

“You’re always invited,” retorted Lucifer before he was forced to clarify, “Given, of course, I’m alone. Otherwise, a bedpartner would have to agree to an audience or your presence. Their consent takes precedence over mine.”

“That’s good to know. Come on, you look like you could use a distraction.”

“Dr. Laura, what are you suggesting?” asked Lucifer with a broad smile, which made her laugh. She leaned forward and he immediately closed the distance. She kissed the tip of his nose before bringing their foreheads together.

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you, Mr. Morningstar,” she said gently. “How about you tell us about your day and we tell you about ours?”

He rose from the bed and they stepped into his living area. He loved his apartment. He loved everything about Lux, but this was his sanctuary. He poured them all their favorite drinks and came over with three glasses. Without prompting, Simon told about his day with some additional questions from Dr. Laura to keep the man talking; it was obvious that he had told her everything about his day already. A deck of standard playing cards were on the glass table and from how they were laid about, it looked like they had been playing rummy while informing each other of their respective day. Dr. Laura had a rather hilarious story about how a boy broke his arm.

“Lucifer, it’s not funny,” she said, but she was laughing, too. “It’s going to take two months before he’s healed.”

“Oh, poor child,” Lucifer managed to stop laughing, but really, what was the boy thinking? “He’ll be bored to death.”

“What about your day?” asked Simon.

Lucifer did as he was asked.

Simon whistled, “Next time, we’ll start with yours. It’s much more interesting.”

The sound of a moan had him look up. This was not a happy-moan sound.

“What is-“ Dr. Laura asked, but fell silent when he brought his right index finger to his lips.

There it was again. They were sounds of distress and Lucifer recognized the voice.

“I think my houseguest is having a rough night, and not the fun kind,” said the fallen angel thoughtfully. He sighed.

“You should go, make sure he’s alright,” said Dr. Laura.

“Of course,” the devil grumbled.

Simon chimed in, “You should bring him up here, offer him a drink.”

“That’s a good idea. I mean, I remember this nice gentleman asking us if he could do anything else to make our tenth anniversary an unforgettable experience and that ‘Lux is a place to have fun where you can live your desires. I want all of my guests to have a good time-‘”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Lucifer glared at her. “I’ll be a Good Samaritan and take care of the priest.”

“We will see you the week after my conference,” said Dr. Laura.

“You don’t have to leave,” protested the club owner.

Dr. Laura hugged him gently, but the hug was already a form of goodbye, “Oh, but we do. You take care of your guest. We’ll see you after that conference.”

“As you wish,” nodded devil, quite honestly both grateful for their tact and disappointed because he did not even get to spend the night with them. He did not enjoy sleeping alone. Simon’s hug lasted for a while; long enough for Lucifer to close his eyes and resting his head on the man’s strong shoulders. At some point, he even wrapped his arms around him.

Then he heard Father Frank’s sounds of distress yet again and he held on for another moment before he let go. He kissed Simon’s forehead, gave Dr. Laura a peck on the cheek and left for the elevator wishing them a wonderful time in Atlanta.

He walked through the corridor and stopped in front of the guestroom door. He still remembered the discussions he had with the foreman when they renovated the building.

_“Mr. Morningstar, I understand your design and it’s fucking brilliant if I may say so, but some doors are necessary.”_

_“Why? What is it with humans and doors? Why would you choose to be locked in?” An irritated Lucifer replied._

_“Fire safety for one, personal safety as another reason. People want to keep certain things private and a door can provide privacy.”_

_“No doors in my penthouse. Do what you must for the guestrooms, but I don’t want any restrictions in or out of my home.”_

_“As you wish, Mr. Morningstar.”_

He knocked on the door, but there was no reply. Instead, a sound of pain Lucifer had last heard in Hell emitted from the room. He banged sharply against the door.

“Father, wake up!”

With a gasp, he heard the man wake up; his breaths were short and slightly uneven. Unwilling to let the man suffer, he entered the guestroom.

“Bad night?” he asked, pretending to ignore the wetness on the priest’s face.

“I keep seeing my little girl-“

_Oh._

Of course, car wrecks could catch fire. He had not given any details regarding the accident, but there was the distinct possibility that his daughter had died in a fire.

“Enough of this,” said Lucifer. “You and I both need a drink. Come on! They’re on me. I’m preparing them one floor up.”

He selected a black shirt that looked almost identical to the priest’s uniform and black pants, threw them at the man, and walked out.

Not five minutes later, Father Frank arrived. The priest had foregone the white collar, but he still looked like a priest. Wordlessly, Lucifer handed over a glass. If the other man’s eyes were a little puffy and red, he tactfully did not mention it.

The silence that followed was remarkably comfortable, which was not something Lucifer was used to. He hated silence. He always had. Silence meant disapproval. Silence meant sadness. Silence meant being utterly alone. Predictably, this stream of thought was what made him break it.

“So, you said something foolish along the lines of being a better piano player than me.”

The next hour was marvelous. He could not remember the last time he had enjoyed playing with someone else this much. His last time with Ludwig came close, but the man was starting to lose his hearing and he had not reacted well to it. His first get-together with Fryderyk was another comparable experience, and Wolfgang, of course, that brilliant man, was definitely memorable too, but he had been so young. Frank was older, more experienced and it showed in his music. And while Lucifer adored the classics, and there were hardly any styles he did not at least respect (with some glaringly obvious exceptions), his preferred style was soul. Therefore, it was not a surprise that playing with Frank was wonderful for the choice of music alone. Talentwise, he was definitely exceptional, but if Lucifer compared it to playing with Ray… But then Ray had been so brilliant that Lucifer had actually been forced to check whether the divine played a role in his talent. It had not, but the fact the devil could not tell for sure was already saying a lot.

And yet.

And yet, he had approached Ray as a complete stranger and they had played for several hours and it had been magical; a night to remember after returning to Hell. But this here did not feel like a one-off. It felt like a beginning, and it made the whole experience almost frighteningly intimate. Without actually being intimate, and that confused Lucifer to no end.

The melody changed, and Lucifer focused on the music.

He started giggling upon hearing the beginning of _The Devil Goes Down to Georgia._

“Seriously? Alright, but I’ll play the devil parts. I insist.”

And he did. It was bloody fantastic. He even sung his parts.

Once that was over, Lucifer retaliated with _Son of Preacher Man_ , which made Father Frank laugh out loud.

“Well played, Mr. Morningstar,” said he before switching gears and playing a spectacular version of _Ghost Riders in the Sky_ ; knowing the priest would not sing, the former Lord of Hell joined with only his voice.

“Tell me if this hits too close to home,” said Father Frank and Lucifer’s heart stopped when he heard a melody he loved but a message he hated.

“How about this instead?” he asked and began to play and sing _Seven Spanish Angels_ , silently commemorating Ray along the way. Enthusiastically, Father Frank joined him.

After another hour, Lucifer noticed how the man’s fingers started to show fatigue and he brought it to an end, finishing up Father Frank’s version of _Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door_ he so rudely interrupted in the beginning in the hopes of drawing the man out of his melancholy state.

“Take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” said Lucifer. When he saw the priest opening his mouth in protest, he waved his hands to cut him off and said, “Your old-man back will thank you in the morning.”

Startling yet another laugh out of the man, the devil walked over to the couch, flopped down, and he did not even have to pretend to fall asleep less than ten minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Hospitality (Roman 12:13 and 12:20)  
> https://www.forbes.com/sites/startswithabang/2017/09/05/the-suns-energy-doesnt-come-from-fusing-hydrogen-into-helium-mostly/#4a195cd670f9
> 
>  
> 
> Next up:  
> It's Saturday morning, they are called in because there has been yet another murder.


	13. A Devil's Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigators have yet another murder to discuss, and they are not happy campers about it; least of all the owner of Lux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support, you are a delightful group and I love writing in this fandom! Thanks especially to SilverWolf7 for our continued Lucifer rants on FFN and to the guest "Raphael" whose comment largely inspired or at least, strongly furthered this chapter.
> 
> WARNING:  
> There will be some ignorant/homophobic slurs from a few members of the LAPD as well as some very depressing facts about the transgender community (suicide rates, problems with harassment, etc.).

Dan was in the locker room to store his clothes for after work. His back hurt from sleeping on the couch. While it had been wonderful to spend time with both Trixie and Chloe, the tension had been palpable. It did not help that Trixie continued to ask Chloe about Morningstar’s short bout of heroism. He did not like that man near his daughter; not because he thought he would do anything untoward to her. It was much more likely he would flee _from_ Trixie if the opportunity presented itself. He did not want him near her because his lifestyle was not something he wanted to introduce to his little girl. Unfortunately, the man had first helped her with that song assignment and then saved people before opening his home to her new friend (now Father Lawrence was someone he had no qualms letting near Trixie), it was not surprising therefore that she adopted some form of hero worship when it came to the man. If Morningstar dared to break that trust, he would shoot him whether it was against regulations (and the law) or not.

Lost in thought, he had barely noticed that Officers Clarkson and Travers joined him in the locker room; Carl Martin and Simon McEnroe – the two detectives who were working the same case – were not far behind.

“So, tonight’s vic’s a trannie?” asked Travers, coarse and vulgar as ever. The lieutenant had once stripped him down so thoroughly in the middle of the precinct, he now made these comments exclusively in the locker room around people he was comfortable with. Dan said something occasionally, but with the Palmetto case and his separation from Chloe, he had no wish to rock the boat any further. That did not mean he would remain silent in the face of an offensive slur.

“There were two victims last night: a woman and a transgender man,” corrected Dan firmly.

“So, two girls – a regular one and a tomboy. So just lesbians, right?” interjected Clarkson, a bit unsure and curious, so Dan decided to lay it out the way he understood it.

“No, the victims were a transgender man and his wife,” said Dan sternly. “They were murdered in cold blood by a bunch of homophobic lunatics who believe they’re doing God’s work.” Unlike Chloe, he was not an atheist, but he was very sceptical of anything related to church and would not call himself a devout Christian, but he had listened to Morningstar carefully; the man may call himself the devil, but he knew his way around Scripture, and he seemed to believe there was nothing to the homophobia some churches preached, neither did Father Lawrence for that matter who was even more of an authority than the eccentric club owner.

“Relax, Espinoza,” said Travers, clearly annoyed. “Happened in front of _Colleen’s,_ right? The drag queen bar. Kinda tragic if you think about it: guys with dicks pretending to be chicks dance for a chick who wants a-“

“Travers, that’s enough!” hissed Dan, angry this time. This was beyond inappropriate in the face of this entire case and highly derogatory toward the people they had sworn to serve and protect. “Another one of these stunts, and I’ll report your behavior to the lieutenant, officer.” He as pulling rank now, but he could not care less. “Two people died last night, show some respect!”

“You should be careful, Travers,” warned McEnroe, but he sneered at Dan as he spoke. “His wife dragged a good cop’s name through the mud, let’s not test what he’s willing to do.”

Dan mentally said goodbye to his ‘bow your head down and be quiet’ philosophy and directly stepped into McEnroe’s space, “Perhaps _you_ should grow some balls and stand up against bigotry. Especially now.”

“Good grief, Espinoza, relax,” interjected Detective Martin. “No harm, no foul. We’d never say that around a victim’s family. We’re among ourselves here, unless,” a smirk, “you suddenly decided you like dicks as well.”

“Well,” said a familiar British voice cheerfully. “I most certainly do.”

They whirled around to see the impeccably dressed club owner by the entrance.

“Still,” he continued giving the officers in question a quick look that could not even be called a onceover. “No, thanks. I prefer men who are secure in their body and sexuality.” And after that metaphorical slap, he smiled at Dan. “Apologies, Detective Daniel, but I had to drop off Father Frank by his church, and that took longer than expected.”

What could he possibly say to that?

“Sure, no problem, let’s do this. McEnroe, Carl, I am pretty sure you’re supposed to join us.”

“Right,” scoffed Morningstar, turned around and left. A strange feeling coursed through Dan. He remembered Dr. Laura Cooper saying something about raising a lot of red flags around Morningstar during their first meeting, and that he had now somehow redeemed himself in the supposed devil’s eyes. He may have said he could not care less, but it felt really good to be off his shitlist, he had to admit. Something about the warmth in his expression when he looked at him, and the absolute dismissal when he looked at the others was oddly satisfying. For all that he mentally called the club owner an asshole, you actually had to actively do something for the man to treat you coldly. He was unwaveringly polite, kind of charming and, while direct, never deliberately cruel or hurtful (at least with regular people; hardened perps had ended up in need of psychiatric care after being alone with Morningstar, and Dan still had now idea how he did it).

“I found Detective Daniel,” announced Morningstar as he stepped into the room. The rest of the team was already here including Dr. Lin-Martin, her name was Dr. Martin (Morningstar’s nicknames _stuck_ , which was why he considered himself lucky that he was now Detective Daniel and no longer Detective _Douche_ ).

 “Yes, last night’s vics were Thomas and Clara Reads,” answered Simmons.

“Are you sure they’re a part of this case, Special Agent Simmons?” asked the club owner, a bit confused.

“Given they both have the Seal of Samael carved into their chests-” the FBI agent winced sympathetically when Lucifer visibly flinched. “Apologies, Mr. Morningstar, I did not mean to spring this on you. Again, the seal of an angel was used to mark the victim and we’re therefore positive that last night’s victims belong to our case.”

“Of course, but why a boring, married couple? They’re living the life this cult is probably preaching.”

“Not quite. According to what we already know, Mrs. Reads grew up in the drag scene with her father performing as a singer in a bar,” said Chloe. “A bar queen, so to speak.”

Morningstar frowned, “The term is typically used as an insult, Detective. Her father is a queen, and that is all there is to it. Still, that can hardly be the reason for  _Gomorrah’s Fall_ to attack this couple. Deuteronomy 22:5 does say “ _A woman must not wear men’s clothing, nor a man wear women’s clothing, for the Lord your God detests anyone who does this_ ,” but really, given that Dad has put half of his sons in what could legitimately be called a dress by today’s standards, I can guarantee you that he couldn’t care less what you’re wearing and 22:5 is a rule that humans added just for the fun of it. But even if it were true, and it is quite obvious that this cult believes the strangest things, it was not her but her father who- oh dear, was this to punish him?” The club owner looked quite crestfallen at the prospect.

“The father has been informed and he’s on his way here from Wisconsin, but we don’t believe that this was the reason why Mrs. Reads was murdered. It could be that the cult views the support of the drag scene as a punishable crime for itself, but we believe it has more to do with her husband, Thomas Reads, a transgender man.”

“And?” The confusion on his face was a surprise. “He was a man, he lived as a man and he married a woman. What is the problem?”

“Lucifer,” began Dr. Lind-Martin, “What do you know about the transgender community?”

“One of my most prolific dancers is a transsexual woman and one of my security guys is a transgender man.”

It filled Dan with shame that, as soon as he heard the man say the part about the dancer, he instantly wondered which one of the beautiful women was originally a man before she decided to have surgery.

“Okay, so you know what transgender people are,” concluded Dr. Li-oh, damn it-Dr. Linda. “You even know to use the terms ‘transsexual’ and ‘transgender’ as desired by the people involved.”

“Of course, I do, but why would _Gomorrah’s Fall_ want to go after them? It makes no sense. The bible says nothing against them and, while crossdressing is being pulled through the mud, transgender people are not crossdressers.” He looked so genuinely bewildered and almost upset that Dan could not help his reaction and put his hand on the man’s forearm.

“Bigotry never makes any sense, man,” said he.

Dark eyes stared right into his and the detective would have told him all his secrets – Palmetto, how he sometimes neglected his training routine because he was too tired, how terrified he was that a divorce would estrange him from Trixie – if the man asked. Thankfully he did not.

“I know,” reaffirmed the club owner firmly. “But their entire philosophy is based on a religious text that says nothing against transgender people.”

“Transgender are a highly marginalized group, Lucifer,” said Linda. “Only 0.6% of all adults in the US identify as transgender, and like any minority, they can suffer from discrimination and unfair prosecution from various groups including some religious beliefs. Because of who they are, transgender people are common targets of bullying, harassment, even abuse.”

“Why?” hissed Morningstar indignantly. “Cellular development is complicated enough. Do you believe every mind or soul just springs into existence out of nothing? They have to develop as well; they don’t magically appear. It took Dad a ridiculous amount of time to create the general concept of a human soul, and without providing Light-anyway, I digress. What I want to say is: our souls, minds and bodies do not always fit one hundred percent and the concept of gender and sexuality is fluid anyway. Hell, it’s a miracle you people spawn through sexual reproduction in the first place now that I think about it. Thank Dad you do, otherwise you would be more boring. That is not to say that people that are part of the Ace spectrum are not enchantingly confusing, but I digress yet again…” This was by far the weirdest, most religious explanation of gender identitiy and sexuality that Dan ever heard of, but like every other person within earshot, he did not even think of interrupting. “If your soul and body do not align entirely, it doesn’t make you a flawed design, just-you. That’s all: a unique being trying to find their way in the world. Free will can be a burden that way; your path is not given, so you have to find it yourself. Mr. Reads, from what you told me, led a boring, monogamous life with a woman just like he is supposed t-gah!“ Ella had appeared out of nowhere and was now hugging the club owner who looked petrified, his body as stiff and still as a statue.

“Sorry, big guy,” said Ella after she let go. “That deserved a hug. That was really, really sweet.”

“This was not sweet,” contradicted Morningstar, more gently than he would address most people, but he was clearly a bit aggravated with the term used to describe him. “I am stating facts not an opinion.”

Dr. Linda stepped in, “It is also a fact that many transgender people regularly suffer from verbal harassment and they are common victims of physical and sexual abuse, which largely contributes to frighteningly high rates of suicide attempts and actual suicides among transgender people-Lucifer, are you alright?”

Dan took an instinctive step back. An expression so dark it was frightening fell over Morningstar’s face. For a brief second, Dan almost believed that he saw a red glow in the man’s irises that eerily resembled smoldering ember, but it was gone quickly and must have been a simple trick of the light.

“Suicide?” repeated Lucifer. “I never-but then why would-?” It was unnerving to see the usually eloquent man so at loss for words. He was stiff and reminded Dan of a cornered, dangerous animal, ready to lash out. Chloe was the first to do something about it and gently grasped his forearm.

“We’re sorry, Lucifer. I know how much of strain this whole case has been for you, but we’re closer now than ever before.“

“Really, Detective?” countered Morningstar coldly. “All I see are two more dead bodies, two more souls ripped away in the name of my father, my siblings and… my old self. We are not closer to solving this than yesterday or the day before. We don’t know exactly who’s involved, if they are working on a schedule, what their endgoal is and what their next steps will be. There is a pattern to these attacks and it’s all part of a plan.”

“I know, which is why we must create a timeline: who was first assaulted when, where and how. There seem to be so many people involved, somebody will have messed up somehow and this is how we get them,” she said firmly. “This is always how we get them.” Morningstar exhaled slowly and relaxed as he did so.

“Special Agents, detectives, doctors, Mr. Morningstar?” one of the officers, her name temporarily escaping Dan’s mind, addressed them.

“Yes, Officer Brown?” asked the club owner with a kind smile, all anger temporarily forgotten. The officer in return was completely charmed, more than happy to have the man’s attention. How on Earth did he do that?

“Colleen Farley is here. She would like to talk with the people in charge of the investigation,” croaked Officer Brown once she decided to stop mentally undressing the club owner and climbing him like a tree.

“This happened in front of Colleen’s club?” asked Morningstar, looking more than a little dismayed at the news.

“Yes, bring her in, please, Officer,” ordered Simmons. Dan did not frequent the drag scene as a private citizen, but as part of the LAPD, he had visited more than one of these establishments. Apparently, he had just the right temperament and proportions to be of interest to the people working there. Therefore, though he did not know the performer personally, he was not bewildered to meet the flamboyant, extroverted drag mother enter the room. What he did not expect was Morningstar. The club owner was by no means what you would call a classic alpha male or a top dog; he was confident, but not overly dominant or aggressive, though he could certainly show authority if desired. However, upon seeing Lady Farley, his body language transformed. He straightened briefly, almost as if standing on high heels, and his voice as he spoke to her was just a pitch higher than usual. His expression was warm and sad, “Oh Colleen, darling, I am so sorry.” He gracefully approached her, but waited for her to offer a hand, which he took and kissed. It did not even look tacky and Dan hated him a little bit for that.

“Oh, doll, I just cannot believe it,” whispered Colleen, her distress very real. “The Reads were such a lovely couple. Oh, poor Thomas, after finally being at peace with himself thanks to a truly outstanding wife, he falls victim to senseless violence. And Clara, oh, she was just a gem. Her father must be devastated! Such a lovely father, wonderful performer, too, could have made it big, but he stayed in their hometown after the mother left in order not to uproot her.”

“So the Reads were your regulars?” asked Morningstar gently.

“Yes, ever since they’ve come to LA, which was two or three years ago, I don’t remember. After you opened Lux, that’s for sure.”

Morningstar could not help but grin at that, “Memorable party?”

“Oh, doll, the best, and you know it.”

The club owner bowed, “It is an honor to be knighted by one of LA’s most prolific queens.”

Colleen smiled, and looked at the rest of the men as if they were falling short in any aspect of being male in comparison to Morningstar, “And this, is how you address a queen. But then a lord must have been taught some sort of etiquette.”

Oh, so she also played into his delusions, but in a way, that made sense: Just like Lady Farley was a performer, she most likely assumed that Morningstar also played a role. Morningstar, as always not knowing when to stop, grinned widely in return, “I have been called ‘king’ in the past, both as a sign of respect and out of scorn, but even a king knows he must bow to a queen.” Again, he curtsied and just like that, he had her wrapped around his little finger. Really, it would be impressive if it were not also annoying as hell.

Colleen then proceeded to gently and not-so-gently interrogate them about the case. It was obvious that Simmons had received orders from his superiors to start warning the public and potential victims, because he did not even try to keep the information to himself. Instead, he told about the drastic increase of hate crimes and also that they suspected an organization behind the attacks, but he did not say anything about the cult. It was oddly discomforting to see Colleen so still. She hardly said a word while Simmons and Bianchi informed her. By the time they were done, she looked at Morningstar, “Has your club been targeted?”

“No, not yet, though it should be on the list,” answered the supposed devil seriously. “They know better than to try.” The silence that followed that statement was heavy.

“Mr. Morningstar,” said Lady Farley after a moment. “I would like to make a deal.”

Seriousness shifted into mischief, “I am listening.”

“Protect my home and I owe you one.”

“No IOUs for protection, darling. I am Lucifer Morningstar, not part of the mafia,” replied the club owner both gently and firmly.

“You should listen to him,” said a familiar voice from a couple of feet away. “If he asks for nothing in return, you can count on that being the truth.”

“I am willing to make an exception with you, Father,” Morningstar gibed back, but his annoyance was clearly just an act given how his entire being seemed to light up when he had heard the priest’s voice. His warning was both contradicted by the priest’s merry laughter and the club owner’s worried expression when he looked at the clergyman. “Is everything alright? How did you get here?”

“Oh, one of the officers investigating the arson case was kind enough to bring me here,” replied Father Lawrence. “They believe this was a deliberate act, but so far, they have found no direct connection to the case you’re working on.”

“It is only a matter of time, Frank,” assured him Morningstar, and how on Earth did that relationship shift over n- _oh dear, God, no!_

Horrified, Dan’s gaze looked from the priest to the would-be devil and shuddered. The two stood awfully close. Upon Morningstar’s gibe, Father Frank had gently patted his chest in an affectionate gesture. For a moment, Dan was impressed with the club owner’s skill, but good grief, was nothing off limits for the man? He observed the two people who knew Morningstar much better than he did.

Dr. Linda smiled, and introduced herself cheerfully to the priest who was quite delighted to meet her saying something along the lines of _‘Mr. Morningstar speaks very highly of you, Dr. Martin’_. Chloe grinned that dopey grin that made Dan want to kiss her (he squashed down the impulse very, very firmly), obviously finding their connection quite adorable.

After a brief introduction round, with Father Lawrence not even missing a beat upon meeting Colleen, he offered his condolences with a very solemn expression once he heard her reason for being here.

“What happened to you, Father?” she asked in return.

He told her about the fire, but did not accept her sympathies.

“But, Father, your house…”

“Nobody was harmed, that’s the most important thing. My personal belongings – well, for a priest I must admit that I had too many anyway. I lost very little that cannot be replaced, also thanks to Mr. Morningstar’s help.” He smiled at the man, who did not accept the implied thanks any more gracefully than Father Frank accepted Colleen’s sympathies by saying, “Well, the Bechstein may be replaced, but it’s a loss nevetheless. She was a marvelous piano. I would have loved to beat you on your own instrument.” Instead of being offended, Father Frank laughed, “Of course you would have tried and failed, just like the devil had to give up his golden fiddle to Johnny.”

“What idiot would use a golden fiddle anyway?” protested Morningstar quite indignantly. “Of all the material, that one does not resonate nearly as well as wood. That devil deserved to lose.”

“A piano player?” Colleen asked, ignoring the club owner’s reply. “You are more than welcome to play in my club until you have resettled, Father. If you are good enough for Lucifer to compete with you, you must be excellent.”

The would-be devil straightened to his full height, lifted his chin just slightly and said in a tone that would have made any drag queen proud, “You go find your own priest, Lady Farley.”

“I would have thought that a lord and king knows how to indulge a queen,” Colleen smiled, now obviously teasing him.

“Not for everything and most certainly not when it comes to-“ a beat, “music.”

Fondly, Father Frank looked between the two club owners, and said casually, “I didn’t know a homeless priest and former musician could be so popular in LA’s nightlife.”

The grin Morningstar gave him was both dangerous and mischievous, “Careful, Father. Pride is the deadliest of sins. I should know. I’m its original sinner… or so I’m told.” All the other man did was chuckle at that. There was a moment of silence, before the club owner relented and continued in a carefully neutral tone, “Of course, you are free to go whenever and wherever you desire. Just say the word. Mark will bring your things to any destination you wish… as long as it’s in LA, for out of town business, I must organize something else.”

“No, thank you, Lucifer,” replied the priest warmly. “I’m quite comfortable where I’m staying at the moment.”

A bright smile that made the normally suave man look like a six-year-old adorned the club owner’s face as he clapped his hands together, “Perfect. Now, we have bad guys to punish, well, find and then punish, so anybody who’s not part of the investigation: leave, or make yourself useful!” Cheerfulness transitioned to seriousness and Dan was starting to get headaches from the whiplash, “Colleen, Darling, I have already dipped into my IOU pool when I heard there was another murder. Your club will be guarded, as will every club on the _Friends of Dorothy_ list and the most prolific gay clubs I can think of.”

It was a promise and if there was one thing Dan trusted, it was the man’s word. He did not trust him fully, but he knew that much.

“Good,” was all Colleen said to that before she kissed his cheeks, “Thank you. We will repay you and we will contribute. Just say the word.”

“As you desire, my dear,” replied the club owner and kissed her offered hand in return.

“Officers,” addressed the drag mother the rest of them. “Find out who did this and make them pay.” There was a growl very low in her throat that spoke of true anger. “If you need anything, the community will stand with you. This is no longer the Middle Ages. We will fight for our rights. We won’t be lambs for slaughter.”

For one brief moment, Dan felt sorry for the cult who, perhaps unknowingly, was tickling a sleeping dragon. The law enforcement officers altogether seemed to be mostly impressed with her implied warning but also a bit worried. Well, Ella grinned; Father Lawrence looked pleased, and Morningstar was delighted.

“Semper fi, darling.”

“Oorah!” replied the lady with a strange mix of flair and steel. “Do you have any idea how many of us have served?”

“I owe a club, Lady Farley. What kind of people do you think I hire for security?”

“Well, if you want protection, you can hire anyone. Somebody who also takes to a club like a duck to water? Your options are more limited,” she nodded, pleased. “I’ll see you soon, detectives,” said the performer as she left the precinct. On her way out, she nearly bumped into a tall man Dan did not know. The man seemed to be of Arab ancestry and was strikingly handsome. He also looked ready to collapse. He stumbled into the room, and a gasp made Dan look at Morningstar, whose eyes were wide and whose face had lost a significant amount of color.

“Brother,” said the stranger quietly, his eyes on the club owner.

“ _Raphael_ , _”_ whispered Morningstar.

“Help me.”

The newcomer’s eyes rolled back and his legs gave in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References
> 
> https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2016/08/26/where-in-the-bible-does-it-say-you-cant-be-transgender-nowhere/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.91a49d124987  
> https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2018/03/19/transsexual-transgender-transvestite-what-should-you-call-trans-people/ (transgender terminology)  
> https://studyabroad.ucsd.edu/_files/ca-trans-law.pdf (transgender and marriage)  
> http://www.nclrights.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Transgender_Family_Law_CA.pdf (transgender and marriage)  
> https://edition.cnn.com/2018/09/11/health/transgender-teen-attempted-suicide-study/index.html  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmoAX9f6MOc  
> https://save.org/about-suicide/suicide-facts/ (transgender and suicide)  
> Number of transgender people in the USA: Google  
> https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/16/health/transgender-deaths-2018/index.html (Transgender and violence)  
> https://vawnet.org/sc/serving-trans-and-non-binary-survivors-domestic-and-sexual-violence/violence-against-trans-and (transgender and violence)  
> https://rupaulsdragrace.fandom.com/wiki/RuPaul%27s_Drag_Race_Dictionary (definition of a bar queen)
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Really, my friends, a lot of my reading for this chapter was really just depressing… I seriously need some love and positive thoughts after this... :(
> 
> P.S. I directly used his reaction to Chloe’s mom to describe Lucifer’s reaction to Colleen in this chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> NEXT UP: Celestial family reunion!


	14. Even the Devil Was Once An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion, Chloe realizes that her civilian would-be partner is actually insane, and Raphael knows something about this case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you so much for your continued support. Every single one of your reviews is appreciated.
> 
> Second, finally on VACATION! Two weeks of staying at home, doing nothing but reading, writing, watching TV and hiking... Best vacation ever :)...That means: I hope to really continue with this story during this time. 
> 
> Third: Apologies - there will be a lot of babbling in this chapter... Lucifer and my muse were very talkative (I never claimed that my muse was immune to Lucifer's devilish charms)

_“Raphael!”_

Chloe had seen Lucifer move fast, incredibly fast, so fast she had once had a literal blink-and-he’s-gone experience. Here, she witnessed something similar yet again as the club owner, after crossing the room with frightening velocity, caught the stranger just in time.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” announced Chloe.

“Wait!” opposed Lucifer sharply. He effortlessly lifted his unconscious brother, carried him over to the nearest desk, which he cleared with one hand, and gently set the man down. He slipped out of his jacket, which he folded and used as a pillow for the stranger’s neck and head. All of his movements were swift, sure and gentle as if he was afraid to hurt the man called Raphael.

“Lucifer,” protested Chloe. They needed to get an ambulance now. This was not some harmless bout of dizzness; the man was out cold and who knew if he was still breathing?

“Just wait,” commanded her almost-partner. “Trust me.” He spread both of his arms wide, and his chin tilted up as if he was performing some sort of prayer.

“This is not the time for your pseudospiritual crap,” shouted Chloe, hand on the phone on the desk next to her, figners already dialling 911. “His life could be in danger. He needs real help, not a prayer.” Thoughts and prayers meant _nothing_. Less than nothing, because choosing that option meant that you actively chose not to do what needed to be done. The phone line went dead and Chloe looked up to see Father Frank’s hand next to the phone.

“What’re you doing, Father?” she asked incredulously.

“Detective, watch, just watch. Trust him,” replied the man soothingly. Irritated, she followed his plea, and was left speechless. The entire precinct seemed to be at a standstill. Everyone was watching, nobody was trying to help, but now that she took her time to observe, she vaguely understood why that was the case. Lucifer’s appearance in this moment was absolutely stunning; not only did he look breathtakingly beautiful, but he also seemed almost otherworldly. His face tilted skywards, eyes closed, arms spread wide, the club owner appeared to be both untouchable and vulnerable to a scary degree. Humility was the last noun she would use to describe the extroverted man, but that was the first word she could think of. What happened next only intensified that impression. Lucifer, this irreverant yet unflinchingly polite, blunt but not crude man; this anti-authoritarian supporter of free will for all and most paranoid person she had ever met, fell down on his knees with his hands folded together, thumbs and index finger touching his lips and forehead simultaneously, while his eyes were closed and his head lowered. Chloe did not believe in any of that heaven-and-hell, angels and demons, gods and fate hoax; to her it was all an enormous, all-encompassing scam that was created to control the masses. Religion in all its forms was nothing but a lie and a weapon of power to make people do what you wanted them to. That being said, seeing Lucifer in this position of worship was something else. It looked so natural as if he had done it a thousand times, and so wrong because, while it may look natural, it was against _his_ nature. Chloe felt tears prick in her eyes. What on Earth was done to him when he was a young, impressionable boy? What sick bastard thought it was a good idea to mould children into believing they were celestial beings and then letting one of them “fall” to close the circle? If she ever met Lucifer’s father, she would read him the riot act.

The only person to move into the absolute quiet that fell over the precinct was Father Frank. He stepped forward, right next to Lucifer, crossed himself before he also kneeled, folded his hands by entwining his fingers and lowering his head. Lucifer’s only reaction to that was a soft sigh. Was it just her impression or did it seem like the lights were brighter than before? Ella also crossed herself, before she folded her hands, and lowered her head.

“Ella, what’re you doing?” muttered Chloe, confused.

 “Looks like they can need the extra energy, wouldn’t you say?” she said before reassuming her position. She did not kneel next to the two men, and Chloe wanted to ask her about that.

Dan was suddenly standing next to her, “Damn, he knows how to put on a show, doesn’t he?”

That was it! It was just a performance; they had just admitted that they were brothers. Raphael was fine; they were just trying to make some point, plant some false evidence that Lucifer truly was a fallen angel and that this was his brother, an actual angel. The frustrating thing was, it almost worked.

Unsurprisingly, ‘Raphael’ opened his eyes shortly after and slowly sat up. He was stunningly beautiful with perfectly even facial features; he had hazel eyes and an almost golden skin tone. He could be of Middle Eastern descent; perhaps his parents were originally from Saudi Arabia or Iran, Afghanistan or Iraq. Father Frank noticed the movement and sat back on his heels, hands now on his thighs, before he nodded respectfully at the man on the table who gave him a kind smile. His ‘brother’ had not noticed, his eyes still closed.

For some unfathomable reason, the stranger chuckled softly and grasped Lucifer’s hands. The club owner  _flinched_ , a full-body flinch. Within seconds, he was out of the other man’s reach, his hands nervously adjusting his cufflinks, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“10 out of 10 as far as dramatic entrances go, brother,” muttered Lucifer. “Been listening to some dark prayers lately?”

“Lucifer-“

“I mean, not as dark as the prayers aimed at the Prince of Darkness, mind you, but it’s not nice, isn’t it? When they tell you how they follow your will; how you made them do all the crimes they committed,” Lucifer was so angry, he was almost trembling.

“Lucifer-“

“Let me give you a tip, little brother: _don’t listen_. It’s easier to bear that way. You cannot block them out completely, not at first, but it’ll be easier in the long run.”

“Lucifer…”

“What?!” Lucifer shouted. “I helped, didn’t I? I didn’t let you fall, which is more than can be said of you, any of you, and my fall was by far longer and infinitely more painful than yours would have been. What do you want from me now? After all this time?”

He was furious and it stood in stark contrast with the compassion, care and obvious love he had shown his brother both when he collapsed and when he had realized that crimes were committed in ‘Raphael’s’ name (making Chloe wonder whether Raphael also believed he was an angel).

“Brother, you must know that-“ Raphael began, but the club owner interrupted.

“You know what? Don’t bother. I know why you didn’t come visit me, but you know, that’s not the only way of communication. You could’ve…sent a carrier pigeon for all I care; some of them wind up in Hell, so you wouldn’t have even needed to banish them. Though their numbers are small compared to the amount of seagulls in Hell. Nothing will ever beat humans, of course; they claim the undisputed top, though other mammals may wind up in Hell too like the chimpanzee war packs, some rodents and a remarkable number of pigs, really, but then it’s always the cats you have to look out for. The ones winding up in Hell are minxes, the whole lot of them. Did you know they were the only ones that ever tried to usurp me?”

Raphael tilted his head in confusion, “I thought that was a demon rebellion?”

“Oh, it was, but it was instigated by Bastet and her little legion of cats,” continued the would-be devil, now roping Egyptian mythology into his delusions. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Linda mentally taking notes of this conversation.

“What did you do? They failed, I know that much, but- did you destroy her?”

“What, no!” Lucifer looked positively appalled. “Don’t get me wrong, cats are utterly untrustworthy and power-hungry, would stab me in the back if they could, but once they finally realized that I was not some enormous bird they needed to kill, things simmered down a little. They are highly skilled torturers, but can also be quite lovely companions for the lonely and downtrodden, so we made a deal: I created a warm, cozy little section in Hell that is now ruled by Bastet. They keep out of my way and I occasionally give them human souls to torture. In return, they take in some of the souls that are… just a bit lost, not really deserving of punishment. If I can break them out of their own rooms, of course. And these souls are then tasked to pamper a couple of cats for all of eternity. For some reason, everybody involved believes this to be a fair deal.”

Raphael, instead of looking utterly confused, just smiled, “I see.” The smile disappeared from one moment to the next, “I am sorry.”

Lucifer, who had obviously been trying for some sort of levity to let go off the anger, stiffened. “What for?” he asked, utterly defeated.

“Not coming to visit you?” It appeared to be both a question and an answer.

Lucifer scoffed, “You were the last one I expected to come visit-“ Now it was Raphael’s turn to flinch, and the club owner lifted his hands in a placating gesture, “Not because you did not care but because you’re _you_. You are the Healer, mercy is your nature, much more than it ever was in Michael’s who wouldn’t know mercy if someone spelled it out for him. You could not have stepped into Hell and remained sane, brother,” continued Lucifer, almost gently. “There is no need for you to see the skills I honed to punish the damned. No need to truly acknowledge the torturer I’ve become.”

Chloe froze, another puzzle piece falling into place.

She was convinced that Lucifer must have been part of a cult together with the rest of his family. He must have rebelled against the ideology and was cast out because of that. Earlier with his allusion to Lady Farley’s past with the Marines, he had given her another hint: the man was likely military trained (it made sense: his skills, his strength, it all pointed to Special Forces). What if he was part of an intelligence agency like the CIA or its British version (though he had claimed not to be a part of MI6, and she believed him)? He was so good at interrogating people. Had he worked at Guantanamo Bay or a similar location? Was this why he called himself a torturer so frequently? He had obviously despised it, and had taken on the devil persona either while working as an interrogator (that must have been scary) or perhaps long before that when he was still in the clutches of their ‘father’. Given how different these two brothers looked, they were not from the same parents.

“Oh, Lucifer,” exclaimed Raphael (Morningstar?), dismayed. “That was not the reason I did not visit. You are right, however. Hell is not a healer’s domain, I’m afraid. Still, I should have let you know somehow that I am aware of the kind of sacrifices that were asked of you. I should have told Michael, Amenadiel and Uriel that, what they like to call ‘a little timeout,’ is one the worst form of punishment Dad could have bestowed on you. I learned all about the healing of the mind, soul and body, yet I failed to use these skills to help my own brother.” So, he was a psychiatrist then? Lucifer scoffed, not meeting his brother’s gaze. “If you will not let me apologize for coming to visit you down below, at least let me say sorry for not visiting you earlier here on Earth. Let me say sorry for approaching you in my own selfish need for relief rather than visiting you because you are my brother and I wished to see how life has been treating you here.”

For a brief moment, the club owner’s eyes assumed an expression that dangerously resembled that of a kicked puppy; he seemed so vulnerable for a moment it made Chloe’s heart ache.

The would-be devil cleared his throat. “So,” he croaked before making his voice sound more like himself, “Bad prayers, eh?”

“They want me to do horrible things. You don’t hear them?”

Lucifer scoffed, “They’re praying to the wrong name.” Then he looked up, “Did you catch any names? Locations? Plans? Spill, brother!”

Raphael opened his mouth, but stopped abruptly, looked around the precinct and it seemed like he noticed everyone else for the first time. He turned to his brother and switched to what Chloe could vaguely identifiy as an Arabic language. To her surprise, Lucifer replied in the same language, effortlessly expressing these foreign sounds that were produced far further down the throat than English (and she could just hear the kind of joke Lucifer would make about that).

“Fine!” said Lucifer exasperatedly, obviously having lost whatever argument they were having. “Everyone, this is my brother Raphael. Brother, these are Special Agents Michael Simmons and Raphael Bianchi – you know, I really will refer to you as Raffaele, otherwise this will be too confusing – their colleagues Agents Carol Harper and Miguel Martìnez are currently doing I am not quite sure what. The four agents of the FBI are working here at the precinct of the Los Angeles Police Department, headed by Lieutenant Monroe,” he gave her boss a respectful nod, who had apparently stepped into the hall to see if everything was fine. Upon the almost deferential address, she returned the nod, and retreated back into her office. “Her detectives working on this case are Detective Chloe Decker, a highly capable cop with good insticts, Detective Daniel Espinoza, who has proven himself to have an actual backbone and who I also believe is highly capable though I haven’t had the privilege of seeing him in action just yet, as well as Detectives Carl Martin and Simon McEnroe,” the lack of description and the tone with which it was said, was chilling. What on Earth had these two done to be on Lucifer’s ‘you are so far beneath me, I will not even take the time to insult you’ shitlist? “Furthermore, these are Dr. Tara Foster, an expert on religious cults, and Dr. Linda Martin, my therapist and an excellent psychiatrist who is thankfully neither related nor married in any way, shape or form to Detective Martin. Last but not least, Miss Ella Lopez, our resident forensic scientist who would make instant friends with Jophiel.“

“Awww, thank you, big guy,” Ella crooned, obviously touched by his words causing Chloe to lean over to her and ask, “Who’s Jophiel?”

“The archangel of knowledge, wisdom and justice,” replied Ella, but Lucifer just raised his eyebrows.

“What is it with humans conflating our domains?” Lucifer positively groaned, looking at his brother in exasperation. “Seriously? The only one to ever hold mutliple domains is me. And for that, I received two names back in Heaven and about a dozen after I Fell. Just to make this abundantly clear: Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita was a fanfiction writer who made up a celestial hierarchy that does not exist. There is no actual hierachy among angels: ‘all are equal in the face of God, etc., etc’. Angels generally only hold one domain. Archangels are simply the first angels after Amenadiel. Amenadiel is the Firstborn, his domain is time, and he was the first warrior of God. Time had to exist first for the archangels to follow. First archangel was Raguel, the Guardian, the one to make sure that life can exist and grow for it is chaos and that is her domain, followed by Michael, Heaven’s General, the most judmgental of beings and biggest bully in the universe. His domain is Heaven.” He sneered. “Next was-“ he swallowed dryly. “Samael, God’s Poison; he who dispelled the Darkness by bringing the Light, and so he became Lucifer the Lightbringer. His first domain were the stars, his second domain was to be judgment, God’s punisher.” He closed his eyes tightly, his entire facial expression speaking of pain. For Chloe, it was a revelation. Of course, he had said it all before, but now she realized that his delusions were actually dangerous. He may not kill people like the cult they were hunting, but he believed to act on a decree issued by God himself. He would never accept the rules set by the LAPD or any law enforcement, because he was a – no, not a, _the_ – punisher of God. It was a shock, a revelation and made her realize that, after this was over, she could not work with him again. He had helped her investigations, yes, but if he truly believed someone deserved punishment, whatever that looked like, he would go for it; he would not acknowledge LAPD’s authority, or any authority, if you considered how he frequently talked about God. It was a shocking realization. She had known all this before, but this case had truly opened her eyes. As soon as this case was over, she would make sure Lucifer Morningstar would not work with the LAPD ever again. He was too dangerous, too volatile, too insane. As if reading her thoughts and daring her to do just that, he continued describing his delusions in detail, “With all the fighting and the wars, there was need for healing and thus came the fourth, Raphael. Followed by Remiel, the Seer, her domain is and will always be the future, unable to connect with anyone but Dad and her twin brother Gabriel, who is basically Hermes from Greek Mythology, the messenger of the Gods. Then came Uriel, the Pattern, he who can influence what will be by knowing how to get there. Last, because life on Earth began and the souls could not find their own way to the afterlife, came Azrael, the Angel of Death. The angels that came after are bound to the Silver City and their domains are all restricted to Earth, not the rest of the universe. Jophiel was born later, not too long after Adam and Eve were expelled from paradise. Her domain is knowledge, science. In short, she’s a geek, but a lovely one and you would absolutely adore her, Miss Lopez.”

“That is actually a nice compromise of angel lore, Lucifer,” said Ella happily. “I like it.”

“ _Divine Judgment_ only ever acknowledged Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel as archangels,” Dr. Foster interjected.

“The men, of course,” muttered Lucifer, rolling his eyes. “Why am I not surprised? Well, it’s better that way.” Then he looked from his brother to the priest and he switched gears, “Oh, forgive me, I forgot. This is-“

“Father Frank Lawrence,” said Raphael enclosing the priest’s right hand with his. “Thank you for your warm prayer, today and last night, and all the nights before.”

Okay, so he went all in on Lucifer’s hoax, pretending to already know Father Frank.

“You are welcome, M-how do I address you properly?” asked Father Frank, polite as ever and, it seemed, strangely overwhelmed. Oh God, he did not actually believe their little ruse, did he?

“The same way you address my brother,” answered Raphael, his eyes warm and fond.

“I doubt that ‘Mr. Morningstar’ is the appropriate way to address you,” chuckled the priest ruefully.

“Is that what you call him still?” Raphael asked in surprise.

“He addresses me as ‘Father Frank’, it seems only fair to address him by title in return,” replied the priest. Lucifer seemed puzzled at that admission.

“That makes no sense, Father Frank,” protested her almost partner. “I call everyone by title if the title was earned: my lovers, my friends, even the people I dislike.”

‘ _Detective Douche’_ came to Chloe’s mind unbidden.

“I only draw a line at family. There are enough people stroking their egos; they don’t need my deference to further enforce that. If you spent a significant part of your life honing a skill, and if that skill comes with a title, I shall call you by said title, regardless of who you are. If it does not, I will address you formally. Humans spend such a large portion of their lives learning and changing, why would I not acknowledge that? I miss the days when masters in their craft were addressed as such. It always made sense to me. This modern world does not show enough esteem for crafts.” He nodded as if he was making total sense.

“For the sake of my sanity,” began Dan exasperately. “Can we please continue working this case? Tone it down with the lore, please, Morningstar. It was quite amusing in the beginning, I admit, but for Heaven’s sake, we have two more dead bodies, no leads and there will be more dead bodies if we don’t find these sons of bitches soon.”

Morningstar scoffed, “First, the likelihood of the culprits’ mothers having a child out of wedlock is remarkably slim given they probably were also part of a cult. Second, my brother’s arrival and our subsequent conversation up to now has taken less than thirty minutes – twenty-eight minutes and thirty-four seconds, to be exact – which is less time than you wasted in my club trying to learn about a security system that cannot be implemented elsewhere because, even though I have worked with the LAPD on several cases, none of you bothered to learn the first thing about me.” Simmons, Bianchi, Dan and Chloe stiffened at that. Lucifer’s answer was brutal, honest, but he was not being harsh, just blunt. In a gentler tone, he continued, “What you must realize is that your investigation is not your normal run-down-the-mill murder investigation. I am not telling you all this for my sake, it’s for yours. You may not believe in the divine, but this cult clearly does. Only its origin is not entirely clear to me. You, Dr. Foster, told us that _Divine Judgment_ knows that the devil once was an archangel, and that they would’ve never worshipped that partiular name. Father Frank told us that Mr. and Mrs. Thornton came here to assist Sam-my former name’s flock, claiming that the Adversary, the devil, instigated this controversy to smear an archangel’s name. Now, why would they believe that? What religious text is this built on? Not even satanists have such a warped view on the devil. Furthermore, as Dr. Foster told us just now, _Divine Judgment_ worshipped the four archangels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel, but here, there is no Uriel. Why? He would be far more fitting in the role of a city patron than Raphael, who is a healer and whose very first rule is not to cause any harm, and no matter how mixed up your wires are, there is no way to interpret these killings as merciful, or kind. The victims were _branded_ like cattle; that is not something an angel would ever approve of, so where do these beliefs come from? Amenadiel is only mentioned in obscure religious text. Where is Uriel? Again, what are their plans? What is their endgame? Brother, what have you found out?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” answered his brother.

“Wait- you have information about the case?” asked Simmons incredulously.

“Yes, because this cult worships angels. Is it so hard to believe that they would pray to them?” interjected Lucifer impatiently. “Now, brother, spill.”

Chloe now realized that this whole fainting spell and the entire, meaningless talk that followed was a tactic to distract them from how exactly Raphael had gathered intel on the cult. Lucifer would never reveal his tricks and neither, it seemed, would his brother. If they even were brothers. Dan seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because he sat down, looking at Raphael expectantly. The other detectives and the FBI agents altogether appeared to be thinking the same thing.

It seemed likely that Lucifer and Raphael were once part of the same cult. Perhaps, they gathered their information through these channels, not through Lucifer’s connections, but were unwilling to reveal their sources.

“For the past week, a large group of people have gathered in Washington DC, praying to the Archangel Raphael, begging him to give his blessing for what they plan to do, and to share what they have already done in his name,” Raphael shuddered. Hoax or not, it was clear that he was affected by the killings. “They don’t give their names, but on Michaelmas, they shared their plans with us. They believe that that the cities of Washington DC, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago and New York are cesspools, the second coming of Sodom and Gomorrah and that they too must fall. The cities must be cleansed and the sinners punished or the Rapture will be upon all of Earth.”

Silence followed that statement. The first to speak was, of course, Lucifer, who frowned shaking his head in disbelief, “They really think Dad will prepone Judgment Day just because he’s dissatisfied with a couple of human cities? And I thought I was being harsh when it came to hi-“

Simmons rose from his seat, as agitated as Chloe had ever seen him, “You are absolutely certain about this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how many are involved?” continued Bianchi.

“It is hard to distinguish that many voices. On Michaelmas, I would say I heard the prayers of around one to two hundred people in all the mentioned cities except for LA, where I believe the number is around three to four hundred.”

“What?” Dan choked. “How on Earth did you…”

“Nothing to do with Earth, I assure you, Detective Daniel,” answered Lucifer without missing a beat, but he looked troubled as well. “Any names? Locations? Any concrete plans?”

“Stop,” interrupted Agent Bianchi, quite breathless. “Why didn’t you come here earlier?”

“Forgive me,” apologized the tall man sincerely. “Time can be a tricky thing, and I first needed to make sure nobody noted my absence, and then there was a disease outbreak I had to take care of first, but I was suffering from headaches due to-well, let’s call it a migraine, and everything took longer than expected.”

“And he’s here now. Even if he had arrived last night, would we have really been able to prevent the fire in Father Frank’s church or the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Reads?” Protectively, Lucifer’s hand was on his ‘brother’s’ shoulder.

“Probably not,” conceded Agent Simmons. “We still need to know where you got this intel from, however.”

Lucifer muttered something to his brother in yet another language Chloe did not recognize.

“They prayed to me,” replied Raphael without missing a beat.

“Alright,” sighed Bianchi. “Don’t tell us, but you better tell us everything you know or I will have your ass for obstruction of justice.”

“I have already told you everything. I cannot listen to their prayers in detail. What they ask of me… It is painful to listen to their dark thoughts and hateful beliefs, hearing them commit all these crimes in my name and the names of my brothers. All I know, is that they call themselves _Gomorrah’s Fall_ or _Fall of Gomorrah_. They believe that the archangels are the bestower of judgment in the name of God and that the cities Sodom and Gomorrah fell because they allowed and promoted homosexual acts. They target the cities because, in their opinion, they not only tolerate but actively celebrate the lives of those who- what is the term again, Lucifer? – do not solely spend their time with one of the opposite gender. They believe God abhors such acts, and that children must be protected from them. Their thinking is very illogical, I must admit, so it isn’t easy to understand their belief system.”

“Any names? We have heard the names Anna and Tobias Thornton. Any other names?” asked Dan, writing on a notepad everything Raphael was saying.

“No, I’m sorry. No names, no faces, just voices, but even those are all jumbled together. I cannot filter them.”

“It’s easy, Raphael,” said Lucifer soothingly. “Think of it like you’re listening to a choir; just listen to its entirety and then separate the different pitches, wavelengths. You can do that.”

“No, I can’t, Lucifer,” contradicted Raphael softly. “Music is not my domain. I could not hope to do that in a hundred years.”

The would-be devil sighed, “Bloody hell. Alright, we’ll have to find an-no.” Whatever was written on Raphael’s steady face, the club owner was not happy about it. “No.”

“What? What is it?” asked Dan inquisitively.

“I can’t,” said the club owner quietly. “Brother, I know what you want me to do and why you came here, but I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” contradicted Raphael. “All you have to do is listen,” he continued, gently setting his right hand on Lucifer’s forearm.

“You don’t understand, brother, I can’t!” was the desperate reply.

“Why?” Confused, hazel eyes sought dark brown ones.

“I’ve forgotten how,” Lucifer’s voice broke in despair.

“But you _never_ forget,” protested Raphael. “Never, even when you wanted to.”

Lucifer’s lips formed a pained, desperate smile. Proudly, he lifted his chin and looked down on his only slightly shorter brother. “Well,” he scoffed. “Never say never, because I have not heard a single prayer since the day I burned Sodom and Gomorrah to the ground.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know and before I get angry comments from AO3 cat lovers:  
> I adore cats, love them with all my heart :-) I am both a cat and a dog person, appreciate them for what they are. Doesn’t mean cats wouldn’t try to rule Hell if they could :D
> 
> Regarding Angels for this and future chapters – I had to change a name in the first chapter, and I took names from various sources because let me tell you, angel names are a freakin’ mess, and I simply had to go with one option. The story is self-explanatory, however.
> 
> References:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jophiel  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hierarchy_of_angels


	15. The Fallen Angel's Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue session with Dr. Linda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support. As you can see, I finally decided how many chapters are left.

Lucifer could feel his heart pound in his chest. Breathing was painful and he just wanted to disappear.

Prayers.

What did Raphael know about prayers?

This was probably the first time he had ever been forced to listen to prayers this dark. Pleads for the lives of loved ones, certainly, his brother had to have listen to far too many of them if the deep-seated sorrow in the depth of his baby brother’s eyes was any indication, but he had never been subjected to the pleas of those who wished evil upon others.

As soon as they caught and suitably punished this cult, Raphael’s nightmare would be over, but Lucifer’s would begin. So many years of silence – not that silence was easy to handle, but it had been bearable – Lucifer was not sure if he ever wanted to listen to prayers ever again.

Samael was long forgotten and Lucifer was the name people invoked to justify their sins. He did not want to listen to that.

“Okay,” said Dr. Linda into the silence that followed. “I think we should take a break here. Detectives, Agents, why don’t you go about setting up the timeline? Father Frank, Dr. Foster, you could help them by checking if anything about the timeline makes sense to you from the viewpoint of religion. Mr… Raphael, I think you should help them. Lucifer, I would like to initiate a session with you.”

Confused, Lucifer looked at her. He did not really want to have sex with anyone now, which was strange enough. He had not had sex in three days. Nevertheless, it was obvious that she needed to ‘speak’ with him, so he consented. The psychiatrist asked for a private room, which was given to them. When the door closed behind them, Lucifer automatically took of his jacket. His fingers were undoing the buttons of his shirt, but Dr. Linda’s hand stopped him from going further.

“Doctor?” asked Lucifer, confused.

“Lucifer, I think, if I have learned anything these past two days then that my behavior around you has been utterly unprofessional and unethical,” said his therapist firmly.

“That is not true,” contradicted Lucifer just as resolutely. “Has Dr. Laura said something to you?”

Dr. Linda tilted her head, “Dr. Laura?”

“Dr. Laura Cooper, one of my lovers,” replied Lucifer. “She believes you to be a highly competent psychiatrist by reputation, but does not agree with how our arrangement works.”

“Then Dr. Laura is right,” answered the woman in front of him. She sat down on the other side of the desk and gestured him to sit down as well. “My behavior around you has been appalling, and honestly, I still don’t understand how I could even consider an arrangement like ours. You are my patient, Lucifer, and I would like to do right by you.”

Lucifer grinned at her lasciviously and a bit playfully to make sure she did not feel pressured, “Oh, you have done absolutely right by me, Dr. Linda, do not worry about that.” After successfully making her laugh (after all this time, it was quite scary how much happiness he drew from making the people around him laugh instead of scream in terror), he asked, “Are you sure?”

She smiled at him, “Quite sure. I simply thought you needed a moment to sort your thoughts. The sudden appearance of your brother can’t be easy.”

Forcing himself to look as unaffected as he wanted to be, he leaned back in his chair (which was by far less comfortable than the doctor’s couch), “It’s perfectly fine, Dr. Linda. Of all my brothers, Raphael’s visit is actually the most welcome.” Lying was not part of his nature, and he had not qualms admitting that he liked Raphael.

“You alluded earlier that all of your siblings stood by when your father shunned you,” Dr. Linda said, going for another angle. Lucifer nodded worldessly prompting her to continue. “You also seem to harbor a certain amount of hurt and resentment toward them for doing so.”

“Wouldn’t you?” asked Lucifer, crossing his arms before he realized what he was doing and sorely missing the couch now that he could not curl his fingers into the soft fabric. “Dad kicked me out, nobody spoke in my defense. I was shunned and abandoned for eons. Now that I finally showed Dad the middle finger by leaving Hell and coming to LA, I’ve had two brothers show up, one of which wants to ‘bring me back where I belong’… His words, not mine. Raphael at least appears to accept my choices.”

“I see,” she was obviously not too comfortable in this makeshift office either since her fingers itched to take notes. “Why don’t we take a step back? Let us talk about something else. Is there anything you want to talk to me about?”

Yes, there was, actually, and it had nothing to do with his brother.

“I’m not sure how much you’ve heard about last night, but there was a fire in Father Frank’s church. I was there arriving shortly before the fire department’s arrival and I felt… I realized there were people inside, and… It felt like something pushed the air out my lungs. I don’t really need to breathe, but yesterday, I couldn’t even though I wanted to, and I felt both hot and cold. I don’t know what-“

“You panicked, Lucifer, that is a very normal, human reaction to realizing that there are people trapped in a fire.” Well, he was not human and he had watched many souls burn, but then he had not seen bodies burn since the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah. The echoes of their screams filled his ears and he almost missed her next question. “What did you do?”

“I got them out,” replied Lucifer.

“That was very brave of you,” commented Dr. Linda causing Lucifer to frown.

“Brave. Why brave?” he asked, puzzled by the statement.

“You could’ve been hurt for one and you don’t like fire.”

Lucifer started to chuckle, but even to his own ears, it sounded strange and false, “Fire? Ever heard of the devil being afraid of fire?”

“Isn’t the fate of Satan to be thrown into a lake of fire according to Matthew 25:41, I believe?” retorted Dr. Linda and Lucifer was quite touched to realize how much she had looked up to help him. Gently, he smiled at her, “Even if that were my fate, and don’t worry, it’s not, a lake of fire cannot hurt me.”

Nothing could ever hurt more than the Fall itself. His scars started to throb almost painfully, but he ignored it. He had lived with the pain for an eternity; it would not touch him now.

“So, you saved these people,” Feeling his tension, Dr. Linda expertly shifted gears. “Why do you wish to talk about this?”

“I’m just not sure what-“ They were just human. Humans died, but he had known he could help, so he did, but he did not understand why. “Father Frank believes that God set up these events when he decided to come to the precinct upon your recommendation to reach out to the clergy.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t share his belief,” replied Lucifer angrily.

“Why?”

“Because… I don’t want to feel like I was forced into helping them and have Father Frank stay with me because Dad wants me to,” answered the devil truthfully. “I refuse to believe that.”

“That’s interesting. Why do _you_ think you helped them?”

Lucifer took a moment to mull it over before he replied hesitatingly, “Because I wanted to.”

“That’s good, Lucifer, that’s wonderful,” she praised him and Lucifer should not feel so satisfied to hear her delight, but it felt good. She seemed proud of him and it was frankly embarassing how much he needed her to approve of his actions.

“Now, what about Father Frank? Anything you want to tell m-?”

“He’s confusing,” Lucifer just blurted out before she even finished the question, and apologized for interrupting her.

“In what way?” she asked after waving away his apology. She tilted her head slightly to indicate that she was listening.

“I don’t want to have sex with him,” stated Lucifer.

He was always up for sex, always. While he adored Dr. Laura and Simon and enjoyed their more platonic cuddle time, he would always have sex with them if they offered it.

The Detective, too.

She was no interested, but given the opporunity, he would absolutely go for it and it would have no impact on their partnership, no matter what the Detective seemed to believe. He did not have sex with the people under his care, sure, but not for lack of attraction. He was simply quite good at not thinking about it.

However, if somebody asked him if he wanted to sleep with Father Frank, he would be quite appalled and not because of the man’s sworn celibacy (that definitely never stopped him before) but because there was no mutual attraction whatsover.

“I think I am missing a step here,” said Linda slowly, still confused. “This confuses you how?”

“I like him,” he stated plainly. “I enjoy spending time with him, but I don’t-“ he stopped, and began anew. “It’s not familial either. I know family bonds like the back of my hand, but that’s not what I feel when I’m with Frank.” The only thing that was similar was that the thought of being attracted to one of his brothers, or Heaven definitely forbid, his parents, made his stomach turn as effectively as the thought of having a tumble in the sheets with the priest. “I may not have lived within a family bond in eons, but I still know it well enough to recognize it in…“

Miss Lopez.

Bloody hell!

When did that happen? He hardly knew her! But she reminded him so much of Azrael and Jophiel, he just could not help it.

“So,” concluded Dr. Linda, not prompting him to finish his statement but focusing on the matter at hand. “You don’t see Father Frank as a lover, a brother or someone under you care, but you like him.”

“Yes, I do, I enjoy his presence. I want to talk to him about music and about the people we’ve met across the years.” Hell, he almost wanted to tell him about himself, making sure he understood that Lucifer was not speaking in metaphors. “But I barely know him.” Lost, he looked to his therapist who was smiling for some unfathomable reason.

“Lucifer, I’m going to ask you a strange question, and I hope you’ll answer truthfully: have you ever had a purely platonic relationship with anyone that was not a family member or whom you viewed as family including your staff?”

The owner of Lux shook his head slowly, “I think you know the answer to that question, Dr. Linda.”

“I think what happened here is that you made a friend. That’s all that happened,” she said softly. “Perhaps your first platonic friendship where you viewed the other person as an equal.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that by ‘equal’ she meant someone he did not feel like he had to protect; someone who could keep up with his eccentricities without dimissing his statements as delusions. The only way he knew how to counter her statement was, “He’s a priest.”

“And since, working within your metaphor here, your Dad is God, that makes him part of the opposing team.”

“Yes, precisely, thank you,” concurred the devil, relieved to see that she knew where he was coming from.

“Well, I cannot speak for Father Frank, but he most certainly did not favor your brother – who is still in your father’s good graces – over you,” suggested Dr. Linda, but this was where she was wrong.

“Perhaps, but you don’t understand. Father Frank may not quite realize yet who I am, and he may feel indebted to me, but as soon as it comes to choosing between the divine and the devil? I don’t stand a chance.” Lucifer knew this to be true. He had told people over the years; in times where people believed you when you told them that you were the devil. They may have chosen to remain friendly after that, but not a single one of them seriously considered staying with Lucifer if that meant giving up Heaven.

Not that he would have let them, but still.

“But he knows you personally. He obviously likes you because, instead of going back to Lux or staying at the church, he came here to the precinct, where he knew you would be. What does that tell you?” challenged Linda.

“Whether he knows me personally or not won’t mean a thing,” countered Lucifer. “All the favors in the world hold no candle against what Dad can offer. And Father Frank will know that as soon as he meets my brothers.” He waved away her protest. “And I’m not talking about Raphael; he would never say anything against me, but my two older brothers Amenadiel and Michael, both bullheaded and unforgiving, would never let it stand.”

“Let’s talk about your siblings,” said Dr. Linda, shifting gears yet again.

“Let’s not,” protested the club owner.

“You speak of your sisters with much more fondness than your brothers. You mentioned Jophiel, Azrael and Raguel, is that correct?”

“Among others, but yes, these are the sisters I was closest to before my banishment. Well, Raguel I haven’t seen in eons. Not even Raphael remembers her.”

“How come?”

“Well, she’s the guardian of the outer universe for one and not exactly stable.” He meant that in a very literal manner. Amenadiel was the Angel of Time, existing before there was matter, but Raguel had followed almost immediately and her domain was chaos/radiation; without her, there would have been no matter for Lucifer to work with, no possibility to make the stars. She was the first line of defence, his big sister, and he missed her. He still sent her prayers to this day, figuring that it was unlikely for Amenadiel or Michael or Dad to be thinking of her much. Unfortunately, it took millions of years before a message reached her at the outskirts of the universe, so their conversations tended to be very onesided. He had not heard from her since before he Fell. Since he no longer listened to prayers, he would not have caught her messages even if they had reached him.

“What about Azrael and Jophiel?”

“Oh, they’re lovely,” smiled Lucifer sadly. “But they’re my baby sisters, you know? I don’t bother them with my troubles. And they’re a case in point, really. I know they care about me, I know they love me, but their loyalty to Dad will always win out. All the other sisters are even younger, some of them were babies when I was kicked out, or were born years after the fact, well, apart from Remiel, of course, but she’s as distant as Gabriel, and like Gabriel, I am quite sure she doesn’t know I left, even if she knew I would leave.”

“Alright, which leaves us with your brothers. How many do you have?”

“Oh, the numbers are unfathomable, I assure you, in terms of younger siblings at least. Amenadiel and Michael are my only older brothers. Apart from them, the only ones I regularly interacted with before my Fall were Raphael, Gabriel and Uriel, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Gabriel and Uriel are so much younger than me, Dr. Linda. Imagine it like you being a teenager, and your parents having another baby. I had little interest in dealing with them. Azrael and Jophiel were the exception. They were like rays of sunshine that I wished to protect.”

“Raphael seems quite fond of you,” noted Dr. Linda.

“As I said, he’s the only brother that could be accused of feeling some residual affection for me,” Lucifer stated truthfully. There was a moment of silence, and Lucifer could tell from the way she positioned herself that he would not like her next question.

“What about your mother? You’ve never mentioned her.”

Lucifer stiffened, “What about her? She watched me Fall. She stood by and did nothing when Dad kicked me out.” He remembered it as if it was yesterday. Michael holding him down, his wings broken, Dad…

“Before your ‘Fall’,” he could almost hear the quotation marks when she said it, willing to ‘work within his metaphor’ and he wanted to scream, “who would you say you were closer to: your father or your mother?”

He did not really want to answer this question, because it it _hurt_.

“My mother gave the initial spark that created the universe; she’s the mother of all angels, but forming the universe, making it inhabitable? That was our job: Dad’s, Raguel’s and ultimately, mine. We made sure life was possible and Dad made life outside of the divine. Amenadiel and Michael, they were in charge of protection, spent most of their time in the Silver City with Mum, while Raguel, Dad and I were out there,” explained the devil.

“So, you would say you were closer to your father, “ she concluded.

“In the beginning, yes, but then Dad got more and more sidetracked with the general idea of life on Earth and other special corners in the universe, so he told Raguel that she couldn’t stay, because she would destroy the fragile lives he wanted to create. The day she left was when I fought with him for the first time, but he didn’t really listen, just told me that I was too young to understand, but he never tried to explain matters to me, you know?” That still made him so, so angry to this day. How he would say that Lucifer could not possibly understand, but never gave him the tools to do so. “Once the stars were done, I was back in the Silver City, now not only known by my old name but also by the name of Lucifer, but the Light was made and I received my new domain. However, there was this one brief moment when I thought I would be free, free of my tasks. Can you imagine my frustration when I realized that he wanted to give that freedom I craved to a whole bunch of mortals? Mom understood; she was very supportive and agreed with me.”

“So, you and your father became more estranged, and you sought contact to your mother?” she asked gently, and Lucifer’s skin crawled uncomfortably for reasons he could not explain.

“No, not really. She came to me, asked me how I felt about it all. She told me my anger was justified, I-“

He could not go on. He did not want to talk about Dad or Mum.

“Did you talk to Raphael about how unhappy you were in your parents’ home?” asked Linda instead of digging deeper and he was grateful for it.

“No, of course not,” Lucifer denied, quite appalled, really. “He was a little boy at the time, there was no reason for him to know that I did not… fit in.”

“How old was he when you left?” asked Dr. Linda curiously.

“Young but old enough. By today’s standards, one could say that I was in my early twenties and Raphael in his late teenage years when Dad kicked me out. Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I’m just wondering about the fight you had with your father and how it may have impacted family dynamics. From what you told me, it is fair to say that Raphael cares for you, but is still loyal to your parents.”

“To Dad. Mum’s not in the picture anymore. Dad kicked her out as well.”

Not too long after Sodom and Gomorrah now that he thought about it. Dr. Linda blinked, but did not miss a beat, obviously unwilling to open this can of worms on top of everything else. He was grateful for it.

“To your father, then. Your interactions with your brother were very contradictory. Even now, you defend him, you did not hesitate to help him, you showed understanding of the inner conflicts he must go through, but you also clearly communicated that you are hurt for not staying in contact with you.”

That was all true, but he simply looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“My next suggestion is to invite him into our session, so that the two of you can talk about this in a safe environment. However, if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, that is also fine with me.”

“No, that’s not a problem,” Lucifer agreed instantly, not seeing anything wrong with spending time with Raphael. “I’ll calm him.” He folded his hands, closed his eyes and focused on his brother’s light. Since he was in a room nearby, it was incredibly easy to find him.

_“Hello, there, little brother. Dr. Linda would like to have you in our session. Could you come over?”_

When he opened his eyes, Dr. Linda was smiling at him and got up from her seat, “Alright. I’ll go get him.”

“What do you mean? I just called him.”

“And I’ll bet he’ll be here in a second,” she placated him and irritation coursed through the devil. He really did not like it when humans were mocking him. She opened the door, and gasped when she was suddenly face to face with Raphael whose right hand was about to knock on the door.

“How did you-?” she asked, startled, but then immediately adapted, as was her greatest skill. “Mr. Raphael, please come in. Do you have a last name?”

“No, but Raphael is fine, Dr. Martin.”

“The archangel Raphael is the patron saint of healing as far as I know,” began Dr. Linda. “Are you a doctor?”

“Yes, I am,” replied his brother sincerely. “I am quite grateful for my domain. Apart from Jophiel’s domains, few grow and change as swiftly as mine.”

“I see,” said Dr. Linda sceptically. “How about the psychiatric field?”

“Dr. Linda, my brother has spent his entire existence honing his abilities as a healer. There is no medical field he has not mastered, though I would guess that this is a more recent addition, brother, isn’t it?” interjected Lucifer.

Raphael smiled at him gently, “Not quite, the mind has always been a part of healing, but we know much more about the mind than we used to. I also know where you’re going with this, Dr. Martin,” he continued. “I should have done more to help Lucifer.”

Surprised, Lucifer looked at his baby brother who, more than ever, looked as young as he had when he Fell. They had been so impossibly young back then.

“What are you talking about? I’m not angry with _you_ for what happened. Amenadiel, Michael, Dad, Mom, surely, but none of you children. I would’ve have liked some support, surely, a visit or a postcard would’ve been nice, but Heaven forbid if Dad kicked you out, too.” He held his brother’s forearm gently. “What happened back then was not for you to change. It was inevitable.”

His brother’s hazel eyes met his and he looked so much older now, making Lucifer wonder when exactly his little brother had grown up.

“Some Master Healer I am,” said he in a self-loathing tone that Lucifer recognized all too well. “I couldn’t even keep us together.”

There he was, that gentle boy who had always hated it when Lucifer was fighting with Dad or his older brothers; the boy he had kept away from his parents’ endless fights. With a soft smile, he grabbed the back of Raphael’s neck and squeezed gently, “It’s not your job to heal us, baby brother. Not then, not now. Our family broke a long time ago, no expertise in the medical field could have mended the rifts between us.”

A sob escaped Raphael and Lucifer gently hugged him, his hand still around his brother’s neck and the other placed between wing roots. Lucifer felt his own eyes fill with tears; he had not held any of them in so long, he had forgotten how much he missed it. His brother rested his chin on Lucifer’s shoulder, arms around him, but careful not come anywhere near where he wings used to be. If he closed his eyes now, he could almost feel Mazikeen’s dagger cut through bone and flesh.

When he looked up, he saw that Dr. Linda was crying.

“Really, what is it with humans and tears?” asked Lucifer, irritated. “I bring back a framed photograph of Father Frank’s spawn, making both him _and_ the detective cry. Now I’m hugging my brother, and you start bawling even though that’s what you wanted me to do, isn’t it?”

Dr. Linda smiled at him, “Apologies, Lucifer. Crying does not necessarily mean that we’re sad or in pain, we can also cry when we feel touched or happy.”

“Yes, I kind of noticed, thank you,” Lucifer was unable to entirely contain the snark as he said that, because that did not make it any less confusing.

“It’s good that you and your brother are having this conversation. From what you’ve told me, your family’s abandonment had a huge impact on you, and I think that rekindling some of these bonds will actually help you come to terms with who you are.”

Lucifer nodded.

“Now, I think this is enough for today, but we should really pick this up in our next session.”

Lucifer frowned, “I’ll make an appointment, but Dr. Linda, I thought you wished to meet about my inability to listen to prayers… Isn’t that why you wished to have this emergency session?”

“No, Lucifer, I wanted to have this session with you, so you could take a moment to breathe and to get a hold of your emotions,” replied Dr. Linda.

“I’m currently holding them in a very tight grip, thank you very much, but wouldn’t you say that solving this case is a bit more important than my emotional wellbeing?”

“You’ve told us a lot about your and your siblings’ domains today. We all have our sacred duties, and as my patient, Lucifer, you are mine.”

In this moment, her inner light was so bright it illuminated the entire room, warming Lucifer who had not realized how cold he felt.

There she was.

Whatever had dimmed her soul was gone. She was shining as bright as a star, and he could not help but smile, “Of course, Dr. Linda, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+25&version=KJV (the fate of the devil)
> 
>  
> 
> NEXT UP:  
> Looking at the timeline, they see an alarming trend, and Dan gets some insight into the messed up dynamics of the Morningstar family.


	16. Sodom and Gomorrah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan picks up Morningstar at Lux and has a realization. Morningstar takes another trip down the imaginary memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support...
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter *hides*

Dan felt as if he had barely slept at all.

Yesterday’s dramatic morning filled with the latest murders, an upset drag mother who basically announced that the LGBTQ+ community would fight the bastards threatening them, the unexpected appearance of Morningstar’s brother had been followed by the release of this case to the press (warning the LGBT community to be cautious and that the police was working on identifying and catching the criminals behind it), and hours of helping the FBI agents set up the timeline for the LA cases. It had been Saturday evening by the time they were done, because they had to crosscheck everything. In parallel, a national media circus started as a direct consequence of the press release that Dan could have done with out. Moreover, since fewer murders were reported in LA and the primary FBI investigators were with them, it was their job to create a comparative timeline for all five cities. It was grueling work and around 10 PM, Simmons had sent them all home, while he would be reviewing the timeline one last time. Morningstar, Raphael and Father Frank had left at some point after the press release, which would have made Dan furious if he had not seen the pure exhaustion on Raphael’s face, or Father Frank constantly on his cell desperately trying to calm his parishioners, or Morningstar receiving at least ten personal phone calls on the official line they had set up specifically for this case as well as three phone calls to the general LAPD front desk. At some point, the three civilians decided to take care of these matters on their respective home-turf, Morningstar dropping off the priest yet again at his church before returning to his club taking his brother with him. Not only was he not furious that they did not contribute to the timeline, Dan could even understand them: their homes were under attack, Father Lawerence’ home had already suffered from it.

Still, it was his job to bring Morningstar – and Father Frank as well as Raphael if either of them stayed at Lux – back to the precinct, because if anyone could make sense of the timeline, it was one of them. Dr. Foster had some ideas, but she said that some of the numbers did not add up and she wanted to discuss these dates with the club owner. Security at Lux was definitely tighter than the last time he had visited, but he was soon directed to an elevator that would lead him to Morningstar’s penthouse (of course the man lived in a penthouse, why was he not the least bit surprised?).

Entering Morningstar’s personal quarters, he realized that he had no idea what to expect. What surprised him was that there was not a single door in the room, except perhaps for a slight partitioning of the man’s bedroom by a wall, but that was it. What did not surprise him was the piano grand that took almost center stage of what could vaguely be interpreted as the living room, neither was he shocked by the biggest collection of expensive liquor he had ever seen in a private home (really, that liver had to be outstanding). On the other hand, he was a bit taken aback to see the study and a huge library to the elevator’s left. What startled him was the laughter filling the room as he stepped into the room. There were four ladies sitting on the couch together with Father Frank – Oh, dear God, it was true, the man did forsake celibacy in favor of sleeping with the would-be devil! – and Morningstar was expertly serving them food from a large plate. The ‘lady friends’ (he had no idea how to call them even in his head) were not quite what he expected to be the club owner’s type (though recent evidence suggested that his type was ‘everyone’ as long as they were of age, interested and had a pulse, though Morningstar did seem to go for the sexually confident ones, indicating that his preferred age group was more in the mid-twenties and above and possibly excluded virgins): sure, two of them looked like models or aspiring actresses like you found all across this city, but the third was more on the plump side: not overweight, but definitely not who you expected in a high-end club owner’s home. The fourth was even more unusual: first of all, she was older than the others, probably in her late thirties to mid-forties, but most striking of all, she either had Achondroplasia or another type of dwarfism and could be no taller than 4 ft 1 inches.

“Detective Daniel, what a wonderful surprise,” welcomed him Morningstar with a bright smile. “Have you had breakfast? I have it all: fruit, pancakes, toast, orange juice, coffee, you name it, it’s probably ready to be consumed. Come here, sit down.” Dan hesitated, but Morningstar who was only wearing a firmly closed bathrobe and slippers, ushered him over, “Come, come, don’t be shy. Let me introduce you to my guests: Father Frank you already know, this is Chandra… is it okay if I introduce you by full name?” he asked the woman closest to him and only continued once he received confirmation from all four ladies, “Chandra Parker,” he introduced Dan to the beautiful brunette who gave him a very appreciative onceover, “Susan Cook,” he continued introducing the woman who did not quite meet Hollywood’s standards; she waved jovially at him, “Amanda Reed with two ‘e’ and last but not least, Dr. Bobbi Sears. Everyone, this is Detective Daniel Espinoza, LAPD homicide department. Now, detective, what would you like to eat?”

He had eaten something, but not much, and he had to watch his calory intake, but the food smelled and looked absolutely divine. His stomach answered for him by grumbling so loudly that the entire party started laughing. Therefore, instead of ushering the two men out of the penthouse, he ended up sitting down and getting served by the owner of said penthouse. The pancakes were to die for, and Morningstar said something about forwarding the compliments to Lux’ chef who had prepared this for them.

“We were talking earlier about our oddest jobs to make ends meet, and I think current runner-up is Amanda as a professional line stander during her years in undergrad, followed by Chandra who was both an elevator operator, I did not know those still existed in this day and age, and designed online surveys in between auditions. Susan, you were a dog walker and babysitter during your first years in college, which falls within the realms of normal, I believe. Dr. Sears? What were your oddest jobs while getting your doctorate in Anglophone literature?” Morningstar asked curiously, and it was quite impressive how he managed to put people at ease. Dr. Sears grinned and answered, “Santa’s Elf at a Lakewood center.”

Thoughtfully, Lucifer looked at her and simply said, “You know, a remarkable number of people choose these events as their torture in Hell. Spouses fighting, your own children crying, the children of other people crying, the stress of Christmas, it’s the whole package, really. Barely any outside punishments needed in these scenarios.”

Dr. Sears burst out laughing, “Oh, the little ones were alright, and the job paid well enough, but yes, I definitely lost part of my hearing at that job.”

“What else? Do tell,” he grinned at her, and she just shook her head, “What else? Well, most of my other jobs were on campus, to be honest: literature search for one of my professors, checking and grading undergrad essays for another. The usual.”

“So, Bobbi,” asked Susan, “Do you teach?”

“I am more into research, studying late medieval English literature, but I occasionally substitute for professors.”

“Do you have your eyes on a professorship position? I mean, you studied in Berkeley, now you’ve finished up your second postdoctoral position. Assistant professorship would be feasible now, wouldn’t it?” asked Chandra, and Dan felt a bit ashamed that he had initially expected her to be less brains and more looks (which was stupid given that he was still married to Chloe Decker, who was both stunningly beautiful and beyond capable in her job).

“Well, applications are currently under final review, I know I’m at the top and my chances are good. I’ll know by the end of the month,” smiled Dr. Sears.

Amanda grabbed her hands and squeezed them, “I so hope you’ll get the position.”

“Thanks, dear,” was the kind reply.

“Detective,” began Chandra, looking at Dan like she wanted to eat him. “What was your weirdest job?”

“None, really, I delivered newspapers as a kid, then I was mowing lawns, nothing special. After these jobs, I went straight into law enforcement,” answered Dan truthfully.

“Father Frank?”

“Well, most of the money I earned in my teenage years were running errands and tutoring other kids in math and music. I also taught the piano for a long time,” answered the priest taking a sip from his coffee mug.

“What about you, Lucifer? Did you have any summer jobs as kid? Outside of school?” asked Chandra curiously, and Dan could not help but roll his eyes, already expecting some big ‘I am the devil’ declaration, but Morningstar, who was sitting down with a cup of tea, simply said, “Schools were not really an option where I grew up. My family was very isolated, so we were all taught at home. Together with my oldest sister, I assisted our father who had to perform very crucial tasks, and that was my childhood, really. I later worked for several years as an enforcer of the Law, and now came here for my retirement, still helping law enforcement but primarily managing this club.” He looked so unbelievingly, genuninely happy to be here with them today. His dark eyes gleamed and he seemed at peace.

Amanda checked her watch and gasped when she noticed the time, quickly gathered all of her things, kissed Chandra as well as Dr. Sears on the cheeks to say goodbye before she hugged Susan and kissed Morningstar with a ‘See you, Lucifer!’ before she left the room.

“That’s my cue as well,” said Chandra regretfully, rose, and gave Susan a long, passionate kiss that caused Dan to look away, his pants uncomfortably tight. Thankfully, the receiver of the kiss was about as breathless as Dan felt. She kissed Dr. Sears on the lips and then elegantly strolled over to Lucifer whom she kissed with the same passion as Susan. “Thank you,” she whispered, her thumbs caressing the corners of the man’s lips, “This was…wow. Thanks!” With a polite wave at Father Frank and a hungry look at Dan, she was about to leave, but Susan’s voice held her back. She did not kiss either Dr. Sears or Morningstar but resorted to hugging them both closely (which Morningstar accepted with less hesitation than a hug from Trixie, Dan noticed), and thanked them for the great night.

“So you have your answer?” asked the club owner with a knowing look, his head tilted to the side. She nodded, and followed Chandra who put her arm around her bedpartner’s waist.

“Be careful,” cautioned Lucifer. “You saw the news, and even though these attacks have so far all happened at night, I wouldn’t count on it. Chris will drive you home.”

“Thanks, Lucifer,” said the ladies and left.

“Time for me to go back to the mines. I have a thesis to grade and a proposal to finish,” announced Dr. Sears. She got up and by God; she was short compared to the tall club owner who was still standing after saying goodbye to the other ladies. He instantly kneeled and she gently held his face in her hands before she gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“See you in a couple of weeks. Keep your fingers crossed for me,” said she before she gave her polite goodbyes to Father Frank and Dan.

Dan was quiet when the elevator closed. Then he asked, “Do you have a similar arrangement with her as with the Coopers?” It felt like Chandra and Susan were one-offs, but Amanda definitely alluded to having been with the club owner more than once, but the way Dr. Sears and Morningstar acted around each other spoke of an even more regular ‘connection’.

“No, no, no,” contradicted the would-be devil instantly, “I have far less sex with Dr. Laura and Simon than I do with Dr. Sears, though I do see them more regularly than her. Our arrangement is entirely different: Dr. Sears and I primarily connect sexually and on an intellectual level, meaning if we don’t sleep with each other, we usually discuss literature, especially when it’s just the two of us.”

Dan shook his head briefly to let that information sink in.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do-“

“Then it’s not purely sexual or intellectual, wouldn’t you say?” contradicted Dan, desperate to understand that man’s mess of a mind.

“I don’t sleep with people I _dislike_ , detective. It’s highly destructive and dangerous. While I am more than up for a little role-play or rough sex, true dislike is not sustainable in the bedroom. You asked me whether my connection to Dr. Sears is similar to Dr. Laura and Simon, and it is not. They genuinely count me as their best, dearest friend. Dr. Sears thinks of me as a confidant, yes, but she has a very close circle of friends which I am not a part of, and she’s both romantically and sexually monogamous, therefore she never visits when she’s in a relationship, not because she’s ashamed, on the contrary, but because she finds everything she desires with the people she chooses as her temporary or long-term mates. Whenever she’s been in a relationship in the past, our conversations and interactions remained purely professional and respectful but not emotionally close.”

Dan stared at the other man, speechless. He remembered what the man had said to that FBI priest about other people’s desires and how it was their duty to covet and honor these heartfelt wishes. Now he realized that this went far, far deeper.

To him, Morningstar was a rich guy who bedded a new or even multiple women (and men) every night, eager to satisfy his own sexual needs, but Dan now knew that this was not the case. In fact, it was the opposite. Surely, the man had a libido, but he was utterly selfless in how he went about it. His own desires meant nothing compared to what his partners wanted. And suddenly, Dan knew why the man scoffed at the sheer idea of monogamy: Lucifer Morningstar would cease to exist in a relationship like that; he would be exactly who his partner wanted him to be and he would no longer be the man he was at his core. The level of altruism he displayed in sexual, and possibly also romantic, relationships was not supportable with a single partner. Connecting with multiple people through his job, through sex and through human interaction in general allowed him to be himself. It was a startling and humbling realization.

“So, did something happen dur-“ began Father Frank, but Dan interrupted by apologizing, “I’m sorry.” Then he apologized to the priest for interrupting him in return.

“Whatever are you sorry for, detective?” asked a baffled club owner.

“I thought I had you all figured out,” answered Dan, “Now I know I was wrong.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Morningstar waved away the comment. His eyes gleamed with amusement and playfulness, which was further stressed by the wide grin on his lips. “A little bit of a mystery is necessary to keep everyone guessing, wouldn’t you say? Unfortunately, that also leaves room for faulty interpretation of my person.”

And that was that.

No demand for explanation or elaboration, just simple acceptance and wicked amusement. Father Frank, who had observed the entire encounter with stoicism and good humor, repeated his question regarding whether there had been any additional murders last night, which took all lightness out of the conversation.

“Thankfully not in LA, but each of the other cities reported four deaths, details are coming in as we speak. Here, we had reports of two separate attacks on two persons each, but – even though the attackers escaped – the attempt to harm or kill them was foiled.”

“How?” asked Morningstar.

“In one case, security of a nearby club noticed and stepped in, in the other, a whole group of young people came to the defence. The whole city is on high alert. It’s not going to be easy for the cult to continue their killings.”

“Where did these attacks happen?” asked the club owner.

“One of the attacks happened near the _Avalanche_ , the other near _Epiphany_ ,” replied Dan. The slight hint of a smirk on Morningstar’s lips made Dan ask, “Do you have anything to do with that?”

“I may have pulled a few strings,” was the reply. “What about your attempt to make sense of the timeline?”

“That’s actually why I’m here. Is your brother around? I thought he might be.”

“No, he’s at Huntington Memorial Hospital,” replied the would-be devil. “You must understand that staying here on Earth is like a vacation for me, but for my brother it’s quite the opposite. Healing is his domain and there is an endless need for that among you fragile mortals.”

“Uh-huh,” Dan replied. “Any chance he can fly over to the precinct?”

Instead of irritation at Dan’s mocking tone, Morningstar looked delighted, “Excellent idea, detective! I will call him on the way. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get dressed.”

“He’s something else,” commented Father Frank with a very fond smile. “I have not laughed this much in over a decade.” Chloe had told Dan about the man’s grief and he did not know what to say. He did not know how the man could bear it. “He’ll be horrified to hear it, but I truly believe he was sent from the High Heavens.”

“I was actually sent from there,” shouted Morningstar from where was apparently his wardrobe. “Just not to Earth!”

Father Frank chuckled and replied at the same volume he spoke before, “I am grateful for your presence here in LA regardless of circumstances, Lucifer.”

As a reply, Morningstar groaned, audibly complaining about faith and gullible priests.

“That man’s got sensitive ears,” muttered Dan under his breath.

“The perks of being an angel, detective,” chimed Morningstar from around the corner, Dan visibly started, which sent Father Frank into a laughing fit.

“Perhaps you should check your eyes and start to see, Detective Espinoza,” suggested Father Frank, giving him a knowing look that threw Dan off balance.

“What are you talking about?”

Certainly, he was a priest, but also one of the most levelheaded people Dan had ever met. Surely, he did not believe this nonsense about Morningstar being the actual devil, did he?

“Let’s go, children,” said the club owner, now impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit that probably cost a fortune.

A couple of minutes later, they were at the precinct and Agent Simmons together Dr. Foster presented the timeline.

“Let’s go in reverse chronology because it is easier to pinpoint the murders than the initial attacks mostly built on verbal harassment. Last night, we have unfortunately lost sixteen people, four each in New York, Chicago, Washington DC and San Francisco. Thankfully, nobody was murdered here in LA. They were all blitz attacks and the kills were clean. The seal of their respective angels were branded post-mortem, but the bodies were not staged. In LA, two attacks were attempted but foiled thanks to quick and effective interference by either security or other patrons. Nobody was captured, unfortunately, but we know that each attack consisted of five masked men, dressed entirely in black except for silver wings painted on their backs. The night before, each city lost two people, but the MO is identical. In addition, we have reason to believe that the same group set Father Frank’s church on fire. On Michaelmas, no deaths or attacks were reported. However, both on the night of September 27 and 28, each city reported two murders, all vicious and humiliating with post-morten staging of the victims imitating sexual acts such as anal or oral sex. These were also the first murders reported in LA. All other cities reported one kill each on January 27, February 27 and March 27 that can now definitely be attributed to this cult. Six weeks before that, local PDs noticed increased harassment but no murders.”

“Do you have any suggestions what this could mean?” asked Dan. “Any clue if this is based on any ritual?”

“Yes, actually,” said Dr. Foster. “In the bible, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah is divided into three parts: the arrival of three angels at the house of Abraham announcing that Sodom and Gomorrah would be destroyed, the actual destruction of the cities, and the aftermath. Now,” she turned the board, so she could show them a table consisting of numbers that were obviously bible passages, “I am quite sure that this all began last Michaelmas, but we don’t have any evidence for it, so I will simply present the information we have. Between the first report of these verbal attacks and this swift escalation to murder, there were six weeks. Abraham renegotiated with the Lord six times: if the angels found ten righteous men in the cities, the whole city would be spared. At first, Abraham started with fifty men but negotiated with the Lord six times and managed to reduce the number to ten. These six weeks represent the six times that Abraham negotiated, followed by three months where one kill happened each month representing the three verses that describe the hospitality the angels were given once they arrived in Sodom. Exactly five months later, without any kills but continued harassment, which could represent the aggression Sodom’s men displayed against the angels, two nights of savage kills occurred, which is a massive escalation from the previously controlled attacks-”

“While I agree that these dates, January to March 27, April 27 and September 27 are too obvious to be a coincidence, the men threatened and attacked the angels between Genesis 19:4-10. That’s seven verses, not five. Shouldn’t this have happened two months later?” interfered Father Frank before he looked at a very silent Morningstar, “Lucifer, what do you- Lucifer?”

The club owner was as still as a statue. He stared at the board, his eyes wide. He did not speak until Chloe prompted him to.

“Two nights of wrath for two hours of terror,” whispered the man.

“What do you mean?” asked Dr. Foster.

“You’re right, Dr. Foster. This started on Michaelmas and we can probably put it all on the timeline, but I concur with what you say. This represents the story abbreviated in Genesis 19, but it actually tells the full story.” As if in trance, he stepped forward, his fingers caressing the verses. “Have you ever wondered what happened to Gomorrah in the meantime?”

“I’m-excuse me?”

“Five cities were to be obliterated, four of which were ultimately destroyed that night, but only one was investigated by the angels: Sodom, because this was where Abraham’s nephew Lot lived. Yet, what about Gomorrah? Also, three men, or angels, appeared in the plain of Mamre, but only two went to Sodom. Ever wondered about that?”

“Lucifer, listen, whatever craz-“ Chloe began, but Agent Simmons called them away from the board to the side. Only Father Frank and Dr. Foster remained, both of whom observed the obviously distraught would-be fallen angel. “Agent Simmons-“

“Detective Decker,” interrupted Simmons harshly. “Look, I don’t know his background, and you obviously didn’t bother to check in detail before you let him join you on murder investigations, but let’s face the fact that the man has so far given us the best leads to bringing these bastards to justice. Perhaps, unknowingly or knowingly, the philosophies between this cult and the cult that Morningstar probably grew up in, have a similar or identical lore that is still related to but not the same as the Old Testament. Let him talk. Mr. Morningstar,” he spoke up, “What happened in Gomorrah in the meantime?”

“Three men appeared in the plain of Mamre, but Scripture said that Abraham talked to the Lord, ever noticed that? There are multiple interpretations. Some say, there were three angels and they spoke for God or God spoke through them. Others say there were two angels and God in human form. In truth, it was three angels, but one of them was Samael the Lightbringer, the only one whose light was strong enough be mistaken for God,” his jaw tensed. “The other two were Puriel, God’s Fire, and Rogziel, God’s Wrath,” his lips curled into a sneer. “Big names for two children. They were supposed to become punishers on Earth, but they were so very young and not nearly ready to deal with the wickedness that infested Sodom and Gomorrah. Samael sent them to Sodom, where he knew Lot would welcome them and keep them safe, while he went to Gomorrah by himself. Unbeknownst to Samael, Klorel, God’s Clarity, was too eager to wait for his brother and already went there _two hours early_. He paid a terrible price for his impatience,” Morningstar’s hand curled into a fist. “By the time I arrived, the mob had him.” The man was now shaking with anger. Delusions or not, he believed in it deeply enough that he had a physical reaction to the fabricated memory. “Let this be a lesson, my dear law enforcement, never take on a mob alone, no matter how much firepower you have, they may still defeat you.” Dan was shocked to see tears form in the man’s eyes, which were so dark they almost appeared black. “They stood no chance against God’s Poison, though. It’s swift, silent, merciless and Gomorrah was no more. I did not look for righteous men, and I followed God’s Will. He gave permission, but-“ he closed his eyes. “I’m good at punishment. The best. This was pure wrath, however. At first, I thought that was it, but the cities hurt one of Heaven’s sons and Heaven was not merciful that day. I had to burn it all to the ground. And I did.” He lowered his head, and everyone in the room fell silent.

Father Frank stepped up and put a hand on the thinner man’s shoulder, “I would have done the same if this had been my brother.”

Morningstar scoffed, “No, believe me, you wouldn’t have.”

“Wrath is a universal sin. You really think I’m free of it?” asked Father Frank. “What happened after?”

“It doesn’t matter, but we have the timeline now. Six weeks between the first signs and murder representing Abraham’s pleas. Three months representing the arrival in Sodom, five months for Klorel’s premature arrival and human’s aggression against the divine… followed by two nights of wrath, representing the two hours it took Samael to destroy Gomorrah. No kills on Michaelmas, possibly again to represent Abraham’s pleas for mercy, but mercy is not in the nature of God’s punisher. The destruction of the other cities took five hours, from midnight to the rooster’s first cry, which was likely around 5 AM. If _Gomorrah’s Fall_ keeps this up, we have only three nights before they destroy the cities, and they will succeed unless we find them.”

“Why do you think they’ll succeed?”

“Because the only ones who know what happened that night are the four angels sent as punishers. Samael is currently present and very fond of the cities that they want to destroy. Puriel and Rogziel are unlikely because they were sickened by the aftermath and asked to never punish anyone ever again, begging our father for new domains, which were granted to them. That leaves Klorel.”

“Who’s Klorel, brother?” asked Raphael, who had apparently appeared out of thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Now that’s a cliffhanger, and I apologize… a little *devilish grin*; please remember that I don’t actively want to torture you, this is just the right time to switch POVs yet again
> 
> \- For all that wonder about Klorel – Yes, it is absolutely a reference to Stargate SG-1, thank you very much. If you want some linguistic background: ‘klor’ has also been listed in a Yiddish-English dictionary to mean ‘clear’, which incidently is closely related to ‘klar’ the German word with the same meaning. But the name is totally made up and a reference to one of my favorite shows :)
> 
> References:  
> https://brightside.me/wonder-curiosities/the-14-most-unusual-jobs-393960/  
> https://rootedinrights.org/what-does-it-mean-to-be-less-than-4-feet-and-10-inches-tall/  
> https://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/condition/achondroplasia  
> https://momsla.com/best-places-to-see-santa-in-los-angeles/  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sodom_and_Gomorrah  
> https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+18&version=GNV  
> https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+19&version=NIV  
> https://angelicpedia.com/lists/list-of-angels/


	17. The Prodigal Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe is a bit weirded out by Lucifer's 'Luciferiness', but she's not the only one. It's also strange to see Lucifer being the rational one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This also kind of ends with a cliffhanger, but at least we have our first answers regarding Klorel.  
> It's also a short chapter, but the next one will be extensive, so bear with me...

“What do you mean by ‘who’s Klorel’?” asked Lucifer incredulously. “Our brother. One of the three angels that took over my domain as punishers in the name of Dad outside of Hell.”

Raphael frowned, “You were never replaced. Puriel’s and Rogziel’s domain was judgment on Earth, yes, but they were never meant to be punishers. Puriel’s task is to prevent injustice, Rogziel’s domain is mercy in a judiciary sense.”

“No, that’s the respective domain they received after the events in Sodom and Gomorrah,” contradicted Lucifer resolutely.

This was interesting. So far, their stories and lore had matched perfectly, but either the cult’s philosophy changed after Lucifer left his home, or one of them was remembering things incorrectly.

“Well, they were in Sodom, true, but Dad punished the cities. Puriel and Rogziel simply defended themselves against the men who wished to harm them,” stated Raphael.

“Fire and brimstone, brother. Does this sound like Dad to you?” asked the would-be devil incredulously.

“Wait, that was you?” asked Raphael. “But… How?”

“How does he talk to any of us? Dream, of course. He showed me the cities, images of doom and gloom. We made a bargain and I went. Pretty straightforward, really. Now, what is less clear is the fact that you don’t seem to remember that Klorel was also there.”

“What are you talking about?” the brother dismissed the statement entirely, which was strainge. So far, Raphael had taken Lucifer very seriously. “Are you sure you didn’t confuse some hum-anyhow,” anxiously he looked around before he focused back on Lucifer. “You bargained with Dad? What was the deal?”

“Brother, you should be focusing more on the ‘I seem to have forgotten a brother’ part rather than Dad and me hashing out the details of my contract,” countered her almost-partner angrily. He looked genuinely disturbed. “What happened?”

“Anyway,” the other man waved away Lucifer’s concerns. “So Puriel and Rogziel-“

“Are well and accounted for, I think, but let us now please focus on the ‘Klorel’ part of this discussion.”

“If this is some prank, Lucifer, it’s not funny,” Raphael hissed. “I don’t know who Klorel is supposed to be. You were gone for a long time; our family continued to grow after you left. There were many siblings that came after your Fall. Perhaps, you just misheard the name.”

“Misheard-“ Disbelievingly, Lucifer shook his head, “When have I ever misheard a name? You know what? Never mind! If his name wasn’t Klorel, which angel was sent to Gomorrah? Puriel and Rogziel went to Lot’s house; another angel went to Gomorrah. Who was it?”

Raphael tilted his head, “Nobody. No angel stepped foot into _that_ city, you know that. It deserved _everything_ that happened to it. There were no righteous men to be found.” His voice was filled with utter disgust as if the sheer thought of Gomorrah made his stomach turn. Lucifer’s brother then proceeded to tell everyone what happened, practically quoting Scripture.

The club owner listened, his eyes widening with every word his brother spoke.

“What’re you talking about? This is what humans learn, not what actually happened.”

Suddenly, Chloe realized what was happening. The cult’s philosophies _had_ shifted after Lucifer was kicked out, possibly leaving old beliefs behind and taking on more traditional views. This had to be tough on the club owner. “Think about it, Raphael, why would I make up a brother, place him in Gomorrah? I remember him being attacked. Why would I remember being late to his rescue?”

Raphael gently put a comforting hand on his brother’s left shoulder, “You’d already been away for a long time by then, all alone, isolated from other celestials-Did you never have dreams where you were with us again? I certainly dreamed that you would return for the better part of two millenia. I believed it so much, I would sometimes check the outside of the Silver City’s gates just to make sure.”

Lucifer’s expression softened, “Even if I had dreams like that, why would I make up a brother? I had plenty to choose from.”

“I don’t know. So you wouldn’t have to go about punishing these cities all by yourself?” suggested Raphael.

The laughter that escaped Lucifer’s lips was dark and hollow. “I truly must have been away for an eternity if you honestly believe I ever wanted to drag younger siblings into my domain.” His hissed between gritted teeth.

“You never said you didn’t dream of coming home.” That statement was so out of the blue and unrelated to what Lucifer said previously, Chloe frowned. This was very strange, and though it fit right in with what she started to call _Luciferiness_ , it was quite obvious that Raphael did not act at all like Lucifer expected him to.

“That’s correct,” said the tall man slowly.

“I understand if you never wanted to return,” Raphael shook his head sadly. “I know the Silver City never made you happy.”

“Oh little brother, you know I can’t lie,” breathed Lucifer. “But what truly disturbs me is that you seem to be unable to focus on the root of our conversation. I remember a brother that you claim does not exist, but you aren’t even a tiny bit bothered by that fact.” Raphael chuckled as if there was not a care in the world, and, even though she knew the man for less than a day, this seemed wildly out of character for him. He seemed almost drunk or high. His older brother seemed to come to the same conclusion because he took a step closer and grabbed the back of the man’s head, trying to catch his gaze, but Raphael looked away.

“Something is wrong,” the club owner frowned. “Tell me-“

“Don’t do that, Lucifer,” begged the man. “Please stop.”

As if stung, Lucifer let go, took a step back and folded his hands.

“Amenadiel will say the same thing,” Raphael protested, putting his hands on the would-be devil’s wrists.

“We’ll see about this.”

Chloe blinked, and gasped, because even though she could swear the two brothers stood right in front of them less than a second ago, they were now by the board with the timeline. Lucifer looked… upset, even more upset than before.

“-you get it? If none of you can remember, we have a problem. Not only can you not remember, you all seem to think it’s insignificant. Amenadiel didn’t even listen or try to hide his presence! See?” He gestured at the FBI agents, detectives, and the priest, and Chloe just knew that they were as puzzled as she was. What the hell was happening here? “I am not suffering from delusions, no matter how many times I’m being accused of it!”

“Brother-“

“Don’t ‘brother’ me, Raphael. I was there unlike any of you… I was actually there. You think it’s easy? It’s not comparable to Dad striking from above; only he can do that. No, I called the fire with my own hands and I let the perpetrators burn for what they did to Klorel, but they were not the only ones caught in this bout of celestial justice. There were women, children, babies, dogs, birds, cats, goats, sheep, old people, young people... a whole city!” he shouted, but ended in a whisper. “They all burned and I heard them scream; they begged for mercy, but mercy wasn’t mine to give.” Lucifer’s face was a grimace of pain and fury, his eyes were wide and his lips formed a smile that could not be less genuine.

“Please tell me we’re still talking about Sodom and Gomorrah or I have to arrest you, Morningstar,” said Agent Simmons. “Also, what happened here? How on Earth did you move ten feet within less than a second? You were right here,” he stepped onto the spot where the brothers had stood just moments earlier, “Now you stand over there. How?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “First: yes, of course I’m still talking about Sodom and Gomorrah, what else would I be talking about? Second, we stand here because I called our brother Amenadiel who stopped time, but the bastard disappeared before hearing me out, and I needed the board to explain what was happening.”

Only now did she notice that Lucifer held a pen in his hand. On the board was a timeline she did not recognize.

“Alright!” exclaimed Bianchi. “Do you do mass hypnosis?” His breathing was labored and he looked close to having a panic attack. “Seriously. What the fuck, Mr. Morningstar? How much time passed? Did you just waste half an hour for some elaborate hoax? Are you kidding me?”

“Look, Bianchi, I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for this-“ began Dan using his ‘I’m a cop and I know what I’m doing’ tone, at the same time as Father Frank said, “Perhaps, we should all take a step back-“ only to be interrupted by Raphael who said, “Brother, I never said you were delusional, but I agree with Amenadiel: Father probably never talked to you. It was all just a dream. Only two angels were in Sodom and Gomorrah and Dad destroyed the cities from the High Heavens…”

“Raining down burning sulfur? That’s not Dad’s style, brother-“

“Morningstar!” shouted Simmons. “Are you listening to us?”

“Agent Simmons!” Father Frank spoke up warningly. “I don’t think shouting is the way to go here-“

“-Perhaps not, but Father is capable of it. Besides, what are the chances that Father approached _you_ of all his children?” asked Raphael and Chloe just stared at the change she now saw in the man. Ironically, it seemed like Lucifer was behaving more rationally than his younger brother. The would-be devil flinched.

“Because I am and have always been a punisher, ordained by the Almighty himself. I’m the only one to ever do his dirty work,” hissed the club owner coldly. This time, Chloe joined the loud commotion that followed by telling everybody to calm down, Simmons threatened Lucifer that he was off the case if he did not immediately explain what was going on, Bianchi looked absolutely terrified, his eyes moving from the spot the brothers had occupied to where they were now, Dan stepped in between Bianchi and Lucifer once he saw the FBI agent’s hand reach for his weapon.

 _“Everybody be quiet!”_ snapped Lucifer. His voice was lowered and he rose to his full height, which was impressive for a man whose general stance was unusually straight for somebody that tall. Everyone settled down and it was quiet enough you could hear a pin drop.

“Agent Bianchi,” began the club owner quietly, “I can guarantee you that I did nothing to you or the rest of this team. I would never harm you. Detective Daniel, Father Frank, thank you for the support, but it isn’t necessary. Brother, tell me,” said he softly. “Why would I make up a brother that I couldn’t save and whom I would only meet for two hours?”

Raphael hesitated, “Well, it could be a manifestation of yourself: the self you lost years before: naïve, young, eager to impress our father. He was the Angel of Clarity, you said. Could it be the Angel of Enlightenment instead? The guardian of the divine light? You?”

Lucifer staggered back and almost lost his balance, his face ashen white. Raphael grabbed him just in time and led him over to a chair.

“Do you trust me, Raphael?” asked the club owner.

“With my very soul. You know that,” was the firm, unwavering response.

“Then let me try something,” whispered Lucifer reaching out with his right hand to Raphael’s temple. “If it doesn’t work, I must admit to… not being whole anymore. And that’s a scary thought.”

Raphael kneeled down and his face was calm and relaxed, “Go ahead.”

“My mind to your mind,” Lucifer muttered solemnly as his fingers touched Raphael’s temples and then chuckled upon the puzzled frown on the healer’s face. “I’ve got to introduce you to Star Trek.” He giggled again, but the smile fell from his lips and his eyes zeroed in.

“ _Let there be Light_ ,” he breathed; his fingers on Raphael’s temples shifted from the classic mind-meld posture to something more foreign, and for a moment, Chloe could swear there was a flash of bright light; she blinked and noticed that all but Lucifer did the same. “Now, who was Klorel?” asked Lucifer neutrally.

“Our brother,” was the numb response. “He was born after the Flood, his domain was supposed to be justi-“ Startled, Raphael stumbled back, out of Lucifer’s reach, “How could I possibly forget…?”

“Now let’s think, which entities have the power to wipe memories from at least two of the most powerful, if not all, angels’ minds? There are exactly two, one of which could have also altered mine, while the other’s authority ended at the Gates of Hell. Tell me, why exactly was Mum banished from Heaven?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up (Lucifer's POV): A little fight among bros (don't worry, Raphael and Lucifer are fine, but Amenadiel as a few things to say) and an attempt to listen to prayers.


	18. God's Favorite Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk between brothers, the inevitable fight, and the agony of prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a cliffhanger for once, yay! But Major Angst alert for the majority of this chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for your continued support. I have said it before, and I will say it again: I've been in fanfiction for around twenty years now, I have explored and written for many fandoms, but I can honestly say that the Lucifer fandom is probably filled with the nicest and most supportive group of people I've ever come across of on the internet. Thank you!

 

“Morningstar,” said Agent Simmons, sounding annoyingly like the archangel he was named after. “Is this question in any way relevant for the case? Mr… Raphael, do you concur with Morningstar’s lore or did you grow up with a different version of these events?”

Raphael looked from Agent Simmons to Lucifer and then decidedly said, “I am obviously more familiar with the traditional version of events, but given what I’ve just learned, you should listen to my brother. Unlike me, he knows exactly what happened. And for some reason, this cult is also privy to these events.”

“Stop it!” Dr. Foster exclaimed, speaking for the first time since their discussion of the timeline. “Please, _please_ , stop it! Stop the mind games. I can’t…” She looked terrified, but Lucifer was not entirely sure why. “I’ve spent my whole childhood being manipulated by false images and flashy displays of power. I can’t work with people who do the same.”

“We’re truly sorry, Dr. Foster,” said Raphael, more than a little perturbed and contrite in the face of her outburst. “We had no wish to spook you. As you’ve probably noticed, our family has a very… specific view in regards to biblical events.”

That was one way to put it. They were the only ones who were present when they happened and therefore the only ones that truly remembered. Still, it was probably prudent not to further push her buttons. Raphael’s statement was not technically a lie, and more in the realm of bluffs, which Lucifer found acceptable, so he did not correct his younger brother. He also did not wish to strain her any further. She was very close to her breaking point, which he probably would have noticed before if he had not been slammed with the frightening possibility of an unreliable memory (and was now faced with the fact that Mum altered the memories of his siblings, which was not a very reassuring alternative). For a moment, her Light disappeared almost entirely and Lucifer could feel the darkness reaching out for her.

“Dr. Foster,” said he quietly. “Please accept our apologies. Perhaps, after all this is over, we should have a long talk. Compare the scars we bear, so to speak.” He would not accept another Foster girl in Hell; he would make sure she found her way to Heaven. He had to. “For now, however, my brother and I must go. I believe we have a lead, but I must first verify something.”

“One of us should probably go with you,” suggested Detective Daniel.

“Father Frank, would you like to join us?” asked Lucifer.

“I meant a member of law enforcement,” he clarified.

“The sources I neeed talk to don’t speak to cops.”

Or humans in general for that matter.

Father Frank’s presence would be less of an issue; in fact, it seemed as if he knew or at least suspected that Raphael was a real angel. After all, he had prayed for him coherently enough that his brother recognized him.

“Fine,” agreed Simmons reluctantly. “But we want an update by tonight. Meanwhile, we will take witness statements of last night’s attacks and continue our investigation.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lucifer, unable to disguise the mockery in his tone. He had never responded well to that silly alpha-male-my-way-or-the-highway posturing. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” asked Raphael as they left the precinct.

“My penthouse. We need to talk to Amenadiel. Father Frank, you don’t really have to babysit us.”

“I would like to join you if that’s alright,” said Father Frank.

Lucifer scoffed, “You want to meet another angel, don’t you? Well, if that is what you wish, I am sure Raphael could introduce you to a sibling that doesn’t have a stick so far up their arse it quite possibly tickles their throat.”

Raphael stopped abruptly, “You told him?”

“I tell everyone,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t see the point in lying to them and humans are stronger than we give them credit for. Doesn’t matter what I tell them, though. You just witnessed how well they manage to rationalize what they can’t explain.”

“What do you know?” asked the healer addressing Father Frank.

“You’re angels, both of you,” answered the priest, which caused Lucifer to sneer derisively, “What? Can you see my wings?” He stepped into the car and drove out of the parking lot once the angel and the clergyman followed suit.

“No, but sometimes I can see his,” replied Father Frank pointing at Raphael, who was taken aback.

“Really?” asked Lucifer doubtfully. “What color are they?”

Angel wings were as unique as human fingerprints, but most humans either went for white (because of Lucifer, and due to the misinterpretation of Gabriel’s light gray wings), gold (Michael) or something ridiculous such as rainbow colors.

“Bronze-colored,” answered Father Frank correctly, which caused Lucifer to swerve slightly before he got the car back under control. Raphael gribbed the car’s seat so tightly Lucifer feared he might demolish his beloved Corvette.

“Alright, let’s discuss this once we’re home.”

Apart from Raphael telling Lucifer in Arabic that this was not good – which Lucifer countered by saying that Father Frank was a good man and entirely loyal to Dad, so he would never betray them – and the priest calmly telling them a story of his touring days at Lucifer’s request (which had him burst into laughter halfway through, because it just reinforced his wish to talk to Mick Jagger as soon as possible), the rest of the drive occurred in silence.

“So,” asked Lucifer as soon as they stepped into the elevator, “You know Raphael’s an angel. You knew that from the moment you met him. Did that cause you to realize that I was telling you the truth?” Because if he believed him, Lucifer did not understand why the priest was not breaking down the doors of the Vatican more than 6000 miles away proclaiming that Satan lived in Los Angeles.

Father Frank chuckled, “No, he’s far more subtle than you are. I only recognized him because I knew what to look for thanks to you.”

“So, what made you think I was the devil?”

“Earlier today, I told you about how I was tutoring other children to earn money. Well, don’t let the collar or any of that fool you. I know people from all walks of life and reached my fair share of low-points. I am quite aware of my surroundings, but I did not hear you come into the interrogation room two nights ago. I also didn’t see you already in there when I entered. It seemed as if the shadows themselves kept you out of sight.”

“The contrary, actually, padre,” smiled Lucifer.

“Light. You manipulated the light, so we would not see you until you wanted to be seen,” Father Frank’s eyes widened, and Lucifer laughed.

“No, I used to _be_ the Light, Frank. I may have burned out and fallen; I may be broken, but light has a certain affinity for me. Shadows are the mere absence of it.” He had no control over the shadows, but Light still responded to his commands; a mere mockery of what he used to be able to create. Dad made him his Punisher for a reason. Nobody would see him coming unless he willed it. “So, that was the first strike. What ultimately convinced you?”

“The fire in the church. When you had these children with you and the flames sparked, I could swear I saw-I’m not sure what I saw. You made sure the flames didn’t touch the children, but it must have strained you, because what I-“ Again he halted, the man’s dark eyes were haunted.

“You saw my devil face?” Lucifer drew back, surprised, shocked and genuinely afraid. Surely, if the man had seen his nastier side so early on, the worst of the shock was over by now, was it? He would have fled much earlier.

“Is that what you call it?” hummed Father Frank thoughtfully. “I think I just saw a fallen angel that never lost his grace.”

A painful sound escaped Lucifer’s throat, “Really? Is that what you think? If all you saw were fire and shadow, why on Earth would you believe I’m not precisely what the church taught you? The Prince of Lies? Lord of Darkness? King of All Evil? Did you catch a glimpse of the great white light as well?” He asked mockingly, standing very still. His wings were gone, and with them the last bit of Light. Thankfully, he still responded to and could partially aid the inner light of life, or he would not have been able to help Raphael.

“You’ve never heard yourself play, have you?” asked Frank gently. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely beating you when we’re just playing for fun-“ he held up his hand when Lucifer justifiably opened his mouth to protest, “But when you get lost in the music? I don’t need to see wings to know who you are.”

Something tightened in Lucifer’s chest. He did not know what that feeling was, but he walked away from both his brother and Father Frank and poured himself a drink.

“Lucifer-“ began Raphael, but he was interrupted by the devil who slammed the empty glass down on the counter before he pointed at Father Frank, “You’re mistaken. The Light burned out an eternity ago and was slowly obliterated in my capacity as punisher-“ He wondered if the screams for mercy would ever be wiped from his soul. “-It is true that the divine light shines through all angels when we act within our domain, but the Lightbringer is gone and the Punisher has long lost the Light. All that remains is cold Hellfire.” He allowed his eyes to shine through, but Father Frank seemed only sad, not terrified and it grated on the devil’s nerves.

“Cold?”

“I used to light the stars, Father Frank. Hellfire is icy in comparison.”

“I know I saw the Light when you played,” the priest replied firmly and Lucifer’s patience came to an end.

“Typical priest,” Lucifer spat. “You believe you’re privy to the divine in a way no other mortal is. The pride of the clergy. Do you see Jesus in a loaf of bread as well, or see the holy cross in a splinter of wood? You took one glimpse at my face as I walked through the fire and thought you knew what I am?”

“No,” replied Father Frank calmly. “Your first interaction with me was filled with anger and grief concerning these attacks. Grief for Sean Peters,” Lucifer looked away. He did not want to talk about Sean. “Anger for the crimes committed in the name of your father. Then you rescued several kids and a man forgotten by society before you went into my apartment to see what you could preserve thus saving one of my most precious possessions. Then you welcomed me into your home. You did not have to do any of that, but it told me exactly _who_ you are.”

Lucifer sneered, “Well, prepare to change your opinion of me, padre…”

He folded his hands and directed his thoughts to his oldest brother.

_“Amenadiel, I don’t care how busy you are. People are dying and you will help us stop this.”_

Nothing happened, and Lucifer’s nerves were already shot to the High Heavens, so he just continued, “ _I have a question about Mum. Somebody was manipulating Raphael, Amenadiel, his mind, yours as well. Just get down here and I will tell you more.”_

Still nothing.

_“Alright, you give me no choice but…_

_It's a world of laughter_  
_A world of tears_  
_It's a world of hopes_  
_And a world of fears_  
_There's so much that we share_  
_That it's time we're aware_  
_It's a small world after all_

 _It's a small world after all_  
_It's a small world after all_  
_It's a small world after all_  
_It's a small, small world_

 _There is just one moon_  
And one golden sun  
And a smile mea-“

He felt his brother’s arrival as time stretched, but did not do anything to stop him from slamming him into a wall.

“Stop that! Stop it, Luci!” hissed Amenadiel. “How do you even know this song? How do you possibly know every single line of this infernal song?”

“Hey!” Lucifer replied, stung. “I had nothing to do with that! We torture our souls more creatively than that, thank you very much, and I would never use music to-“

_Oh no!_

“Well,” smiled Raphael, “a very wise brother once told me that it is foolish to mix domains. Even before you were sent to rule Hell, you never used the Light to punish anyone. Perhaps, the Light isn’t gone.”

Lucifer thought back to the dream he had, when Father asked him about the sounds he was making while creating the stars.

He had been humming.

Harmony.

Melody.

Song.

Music.

“I don’t want a third domain, Raphael,” Lucifer whispered.

“I think it’s one you made for yourself,” the healer suggested gently and Lucifer’s eyes closed painfully. It explained so many things really, particularly why Father Frank’s word had stuck in his head. It applied to him as well: Music was his Joy, Solace and Greatest Friend. Was it so strange that he made friends with a living soul that felt the same?

Today was not the day to think about this, though.

“I need to know the exact reason why Dad kicked Mum out,” said Lucifer, unwilling to discuss this any further.

“What’re you talking about?” asked Amenadiel, appearing hilariously constipated in his anger as always. His hand was still on Lucifer’s chest as he pressed him against a wall.

“Klorel’s real. Mum made you forget. I need to know what else she did,” the former Lord of Hell stated. “And could you please let time run its course? Father Frank knows about us. He’s as loyal to Dad as you are, so no need to worry.”

“What?!” He pushed harder and the back of Lucifer’s skull hit the wall, while Lucifer’s hands reflexively reached for his brother’s wrists to incapacitate him.

“ _Amenadiel, Lucifer, enough_!”

Both angels froze in the face of their irate baby brother. Raphael was a very soft-spoken, peaceful angel, who despised violence, but he was a healer and he was nobody you crossed lightly.

“Amenadiel, I need to heal you so you can see the memories Mum took away. I wasn’t in the Silver City during the events of Sodom and Gomorrah. You were and you might remember something I don’t. We need you. Let Father Frank be. He’s a good man.”

Surprisingly, the Angel of Time listened without any further protest. He even introduced himself to Father Frank and then had him swear in the name of God to keep this a secret, only to add, “My brother may be eager to spread chaos by letting humanity know of our existence, but you should not join him in this foolishness. You should also know that following my brother’s path has only ever led to sorrow.”

Disgusted, Lucifer took a step forward, but Frank put a hand on his forearm before he looked to Amenadiel, “I solemnly swear not to let the world know about your existence. As for your advice, I must decline. I doubt God would punish me for keeping one of his sons company, and if he does, he’s not the God I have faith in, so there is no reason for me to be afraid.” Again, Lucifer’s chest felt too tight and he wordlessy urged Raphael to continue. The angel briefly announced to Father Frank that he would have to show his wings, and – while the priest gasped upon seeing them – he took it with remarkable stride. Raphael told Amenadiel to lie down on the couch and put a hand on his forehead, while his wings formed a cocoon that shielded them from view.  

The look on Amenadiel’s face spoke of horror and disbelief was not nearly as satisfying as Lucifer hoped it would be. Too raw was his own terror just minutes earlier at the precinct when he questioned his own sense of reality. Even worse was the imagination that all of his siblings would go through the same ordeal –Azrael, Jophiel, Uriel, Raphael was already suffering from it… But especially Puriel and Rogziel: If they did not remember coming to Sodom and Gomorrah, the consequences of the returned memories were difficult to predict.

“Amenadiel,” he began gently. “What happened after Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“Klorel was… hurt, so badly hurt,” whispered Amenadiel. “We tried to help him, but-“

“And I wasn’t there,” interrupted Raphael angrily. “Why didn’t you call me to the Silver City?”

“I don’t know!” hissed the Firstborn. “I don’t-Mother, she talked me out of it. Said that he didn’t need a healer, he needed his family, and I believed her.” His eyes were wide as he stared into space, before he turned to Lucifer with a look so poisonous it caused the former Lord of Hell to retreat physically. “Why didn’t you protect him?”

“I didn’t know he was there!” he shouted back. “I didn’t- he wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Raphael held Amenadiel back firmly, “It’s not Lucifer’s fault. You know this. What happened to Klorel after? I haven’t seen him in the Silver City, but there are many siblings I haven’t seen in centuries because I spend most of my time traveling as is necessary to uphold my domain. I figured we just missed each other.”

“He was angry… constantly, so very angry-“ Amenadiel continued haltingly. “He started to harm the human souls in Heaven, calling them names, calling them animals… We found out that he tortured a male soul that preferred the comp-“

“Oh, come on, Amenadiel. He tortured the soul of a gay man, just say it,” interrupted Lucifer. His older, still very virgin brother was incredibly prude when it came to sex. “How was he punished?”

“Punished?”

“Yes, brother,” hissed Lucifer. “Punished. He was once a victim, and I terribly mishandled the situation. Not because I was late, but because I sent him away. I gave him no chance to come to terms with what happened, and no opportunity for retribution because Gomorrah Fell in its entirety. I made them pay, but Klorel couldn’t get satisfaction from that. But as soon as he started to abuse and torture human souls he was no longer an innocent. Well, he’s not in Hell; I’d know about that, so what happened to him? Dad banished me to rule Hell for all eternity over a lot less than what my brother did, and I swear if you say it was a gift, I will punch you in the face.”

“He disappeared,” hissed Amenadiel, whose lips had already formed this most hated of words.

Gift.

Amenadiel patrolled the outside of the gates, never stepping a foot into Hell, a job he claimed to loath and perfomed no more than six Earth years, useless as the endeavor was; yet he dared calling Lucifer’s punishment ‘a gift’.

“Disappeared where? Earth?”

“I don’t know. Mother made sure we didn’t know. She… made us forget. I think this is why they fought. The reason she was sent to Hell: hiding Klorel, ravaging our minds.”

This was getting ridiculous.

“Wait, why would Dad let that happen in the first place? Any of it? Why didn’t he reverse her Mindwipe or whatever we want to call it? Why didn’t he bring Klorel back and punish him? Why-“

He barely saw his brother’s wings move before he was thrown through the air crashing against the opposite wall.

“BECAUSE OF YOU!” screamed Amenadiel, his eyes so full of hatred and anguish, Lucifer could almost see Hellfire spark in them. “Because you just had to rebel, didn’t you? Never content with anything. Never satisfied with what you had: Father’s love, you wanted more; the brightest most glorious of all domains, you wanted another one-“ That had not been his choice, but Amenadiel continued, “Free will… Well, you got it for all of us, because FATHER IS GONE! None of us have felt or heard from him since you Fell, you selfish, ungrateful, little bastard! Gabriel and Remiel are trying to guide the humans in some sort of direction, but it’s a little difficult if we don’t know what the direction is! Michael rules over Heaven, but whether this was Dad’s plan, we don’t know. We’re all guessing. But then…” he chuckled ruefully. “Of course he spoke to you! You said earlier that you made a deal before you destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. Of course, he would tell _you_ what he wanted. You’re the only one he ever gave a damn about!”

Lucifer was absolutely shellshocked and speechless. He could tell that Amenadiel had wanted to tell him that for a long time, and he had no idea what to say in return.

“If only you were just the ruler of Hell. Michael could have been the Light. If you’d never been allowed into the Silver City, Father would’ve never forsaken us.”

With these last, cutting words, Amenadiel turned around, spread his wings and flew away.

Lucifer chuckled, and it sounded about as empty and false as he felt, “Told you,” he whispered, addressing Father Frank. “I guess you have a different opinion now.”

“Not really,” said the priest. He looked overwhelmed, more than a little afraid, but he was still responsive, which in and on itself, spoke of remarkable strength. “I might remove the moniker ‘merciful angel’ for the next couple of prayers or so, but you’re still the same person I met on Friday.”

“Wow, less than forty-eight hours and we’ve pretty much destroyed your worldview, padre,” Lucifer scoffed. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“For what it’s worth, don’t be. Being here gives me purpose. No matter what your brother told us, I think this is the path I must follow.”

Feeling no small amount of awe for this fragile mortal in front of him, Lucifer grasped his hands, “Oh, if only I could have your faith.”

“What do you think happened to Klorel?” asked Raphael quietly.

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s not in Hell; he’s not in Heaven. He’s an angel and his domain was on Earth, so he has to be here, probably hidden away by Mum. Given everything we know, I think it is fair to assume he’s involved in _Gomorrah’s Fall_ , and assuming Mum did not strip him off his powers when she brought him here, it’s a fair bet he’s the leader. Think about what we know: This cult worships angels, but not just any angels, the warriors, the protectors: Amenadiel, Michael, me – I protected him, I saved his life and it’s a good chance I was referred to as Samael not Lucifer by both Mum and Dad – and he excluded Uriel, who’s not a fighter; who keeps to himself. Uriel is not known among our siblings to be a protecter.”

“Then how do you explain Gabriel and me?” interjected Raphael.

“And what? Exclude two of the three great angels that humans are aware of from a cult created to worship angels? He would have lost followers.”

“What makes you think he’s the leader? He’s an angel, isn’t he?” Father Frank commented.

“Yes, well, humility is not exactly an angel’s virtue, definitely not an archangel’s, and if Mum had as big of an influence on him as Amenadiel alluded, then he sure as hell isn’t humble around humans.”

“How do we find him? He won’t answer when we pray to him, and even if, we can’t risk his awareness of-“

“Our presence. I wonder if he thinks I’m an imposter. If he plans to punish Lux for it.”

“Why would he not remember what you look like?” asked Father Frank curiously.

Raphael was the one to answer that question, “Because he was born after Lucifer Fell; he never saw _him_. In Gomorrah, he saw the Punisher, not the Lucifer you know.”

As always, his brother was very kind. He refrained from telling Father Frank how monstrous he looked when he wished to truly incite terror.

“Well, we cannot know for sure until we identify the perpetrators, now, do we?” Lucifer chuckled ruefully.

“Lucifer, I’m not sure how wise it is with your current state of mind to listen to these prayers,” Raphael cautioned him, which caused him to scoff derisively.

“There is no good state of mind for me to listen to prayers. They’re painful, cruel and often bloodthirsty. They aren’t Solace, haven’t been since I Fell. It doesn’t matter, though, because if I don’t _listen_ , we won’t be able to identify them, and more people will die tonight. Hey, brother, don’t worry. It’s going to be easier than I thought.” He wondered when his laughter started to sound like sobs. “I now know that I can discern single pitches from a mass of voices because music is my domain. I know how domains work and how to master them. But first, I need something to drink.”

He went to the bar, poured himself a generous glass, emptied it and poured another, which he emptied again, but it did not even cause a buzz. He took a third glass with him and sat down on the couch.

The elevator dinged and Mazikeen stepped inside.

“Maze, what’re you doing here?”

“Patrick said he heard somebody shout. Who was it?” His most loyal demon looked ready to kill.

“Amenadiel.”

Thankfully, his older brother was already gone or there would have been blood on the floor for sure.

“You don’t usually let him get to you. What happened?”

He wondered if he truly looked as awful as he felt or if Mazikeen just knew him that well.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. “But it’s good you’re here. I need all the support I can get.” She had no soul, she could not pray to him, but she had been by his side for an eternity. Using Hell’s common tongue, he said, _“If I burn, get them out and bring me back.”_

She nodded.

Lucifer sat down on the couch, his hands to the side, grasping fabric, and he exhaled as his eyes fluttered close. He tried to remember the last time he heard a prayer, but… apart from a few whale songs that praised the light of the stars, and a few other songs from predators and prey alike that sung to the sun, the moon and the stars – he adored canines, they sang the prettiest songs – there had been no humans around to speak actual prayers. For Samael, prayers were a foreign concept outside of communication with other siblings. For the Lord of Hell, they were a nightmare. He focused on that, the selfish, cruel lust, the need for destruction… After an undefined amount of time, he heard the noise and he focused on that. Like Raphael warned him, they were a sea of different voices and he had to make out the drops. It was painful, so very painful.

_Mighty Lucifer, we shall destroy those who do not believe!_

_I call upon Belial, the Demon of the Underworld. Kill them, kill them all!_

So many of them, each more cruel and bloodthirsty than the one before.

Past and present hit him, and it took a while for echoes of past prayers to disappear.

Slowly, he remembered that they would not call for Lucifer. They would only address Samael.

They hit him all at once, again past and present, but this time he had to include the echoes of past prayers. A wave of disgust, hatred, and lust/need for violence and disgust mixed with false virtue and a strange set of belief that made no sense overcame him, and he took his time chasing down all these voices. Like a list of lovers, he mentally registered all their pleas, all their desires, all of their names, until Lucifer disappeared in this toxic sea of false prayers. He wanted Hellfire to consume every last one of these sinners for violating the divine for their own gain.

_“Samael, brother, we are here with you. Come back to us!”_

Was that Raphael? Why would he join these heartless monsters?

_“Samael? It’s strange calling you that, Lucifer. I have faith in you, my friend. It’s time to come back.”_

Father Frank?

What did he need to come back from? Were they all sinners? He was the Punisher, and there were horrible creatures out there demanding the unspeakable. Something – a hand – flew at his face as if to slap him, he grabbed the wrist and he was about to push the monster away, when it started to speak with a familiar voice that shook uncharacteristically.

“Lucifer, my Lord, my King. I am with you. From now until the end.”

_Mazikeen!_

With a gasp, he snapped back to reality. His hand was still around Mazikeen's wrist; she was on her knees, head bowed. Lucifer looked down at his hand, and it was as burned and ugly as he remembered. He let go off her, but not before gently kissing the top of her head. She had nothing to fear; he would never harm her. Terrified, he looked to his brother whose eyes were widened in shock but he saw no fear or disgust or even pity, just… worry and sadness. Half expecting Father Frank to be nothing but a catatonic, trembling mess, he noticed him at the piano, his eyes closed, still praying.

“Please, get out,” whispered the former Lord of Hell, “and don’t look. Trust me.” The priest simply nodded, his eyes remaining closed.

Raphael sprung into action, gently grabbed the clergyman’s hand and guided him to the elevator. Mazikeen was still on her knees, but she looked at Lucifer’s ruined face with the same respect and loyalty she always had.

“ _Thank you, dearest_ ,” he whispered in her native tongue.

She nodded and rose to her feet, “Somebody has got to look out for that perky ass of yours.”

“Perky arse, eh?” he grinned, and he could slowly feel the temperature in the room drop, and the redness of his skin faded into a more natural, less horrific color.

“Yep,” she chuckled, looking at him fondly. She was the only being in existence that looked at his burned skin with the same ease as she looked at his unblemished body, which was why she was the only he would have never sent away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Dan has no idea where Morningstar got all these names from, or how he could list them one by one without reading from at least a cheatsheet, but he's grateful.


	19. The Devil's Naughty List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan picks up Morningstar, his brother and Father Lawrence, brings them to the precinct, and - thanks for Morningstar - their cases progresses. Also thanks to Morningstar, Dan is in for a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger at the end? I'm sorry? *hides"

It was 6 PM, eight hours after Morningstar, his brother and Father Lawrence left the precinct, Dan volunteered to get them back for further discussion of the case. Bianchi was still kind of freaked out, Simmons was notably impatient to get more information from the two brothers, and it was quite clear that Morningstar – while not actively disliking the FBI agent – was not particularly fond of him either. Chloe was stuck taking the last witness statements and writing reports, so it was Dan’s task to pick them up at Lux. The club was already quite full and people were having a good time. There was no sign of Morningstar or Mazikeen Smith, however, though the number of security staff had conspicuously increased. There were two familiar faces in the crowd, though. Father Lawrence and Raphael were by the piano, and the priest was making himself comfortable, while talking to Morningstar’s brother.

“Good evening everyone,” said the man into the microphone that was hanging from the top. “My name is Frank Lawrence, and I would like to play for you tonight.” He expertly let his fingers dance across the keys as he played _Seven Spanish Angels_ with his eyes closed; he did not sing the lyrics, but you could see that the crowd knew the song, swaying in tune with the music. The lack of a singing voice complementing the beautiful but haunting melody made it sound like a prayer and the club went very quiet, eager to hear more. When he was sure he had their full attention, Father Frank spoke up again, “Our dear friend, our host, Lucifer Morningstar, is not feeling very well. I imagine that does not happen very often. He is here for you every day, he never asks for anything you do not already desire. I would like to ask you to give something in return: your thoughts. And what bettter way to show that we’re thinking of him than share our gratitude through music.” With that, he switched to Billy Joel’s _Piano Man_ , again without singing, and Dan wondered if he was the only one who could imagine the would-be devil’s low timbre crooning this classic rock ballad. Eric Clapton’s _Tears in Heaven_ was next, and as he played, one of the dancers came up and whispered something into his ears, which made the gifted musician chuckle.

Once he was done, he spoke again, “Ms. Carol here made a wonderful suggestion. I’m asking you to join the chorus. It will cheer him up for sure.”

Dan could not help an amused roll of his eyes when Father Frank played the next song, with Ms. Carol joining with a passable singing voice. 

 _Where have all the good men gone_  
_And where are all the gods?_  
_Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?_  
_Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?_  
_Late at night I toss and I turn_  
_And I dream of what I need_

The whole crowd laughed, and many joined in for the chorus of Bonnie Tyler’s _I need a Hero_. He overheard snippets of conversations that discussed the ending scene of Shrek 2, which had Dan groan just a bit (and made him feel decades older), having watched that particular movie with Trixie more than once.

Again, this time a patron, approached the piano and spoke to Father Frank who nodded thoughtfully. He seemed to be asking for specifics, and the lady explained whatever song she was talking about. It was clear that he did not know the song that well if at all, but being a professional, he tried to understand what the song was about. It seemed logical that a person could not play every song and every melody known to mankind, but it was strange to see that here at Lux where its owner appeared to be a human jukebox that could play anything. Still, the lady was not perturbed and went over to the booth where they played recorded music.

After _I need a Hero_ ended, a familiar song started to play, and many people cheered joining in on Rachel Platten’s _Stand By You._ Dan did not, but he saw just how fitting the song was to cheer up Morningstar even though there was no way he could hear it.

 _And love, if your wings are broken_  
_Borrow mine so yours can open too_  
_'Cause I'm gonna stand by you_

_Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through  
Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you_

Father Frank joined in with the piano, and practically the whole club joined in promising to walk through hell with the would-be devil. The elevator opened, and both Ms. Smith and Morningstar were there, and shit, yes, the man looked far from his usually pristine self. Not that he looked _bad_ , but he looked like he was suffering from a major hangover after going through a couple of rounds in the boxing ring and losing. He seemed happy though, because he was smiling. Ms. Smith seemed to have snatched a microphone out of nowhere and turned her face to her boss who grinned devilishly in response. Her singing voice was strong, beautiful and it sounded like a promise. 

 _I'll be your eyes when yours can't shine_  
_I'll be your arms, I'll be your steady satellite_  
_And when you can't rise, well, I'll cry with you on hands and knees_  
_'Cause I_  
_(I'm gonna stand by you)_

 _Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through (come on)_  
_Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you_  
_Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you_  
_Even if we can't find heaven, I'm gonna stand by you_  
_Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you_  
_Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you_  
_Love, you're not alone_  
_No, I'm gonna stand by you_

The owner of the club put a hand on her shoulder mouthing ‘thank you’ and approached the piano but not before putting a hand on his younger brother’s neck leaning in so their foreheads were touching. He then hesitantly put his hand on Father Frank’s back; the priest turned around and smiled at him before shifting, so that they could both sit at the piano.

“Thank you,” said Morningstar into the microphone as soon as the last notes rung out. “What do we need Heaven for when we can have all we could possibly wish for on Earth?” He did not wait for an answer before he continued. “While I appreciate the sentiment, but you shouldn’t be thinking so much about Heaven and Hell. You humans always do that, but don’t you know…”

 _I see trees of green, red roses too_  
_I see them bloom for me and you_  
_And I think to myself what a wonderful world._

Father Frank joined him on the piano taking the top, while Morningstar seemed to only be pressing a few keys that made the song heavier but also gentle, as if he was praising the world they lived in.

 _I see skies of blue and clouds of white_  
_The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night_  
_And I think to myself what a wonderful world_

 _The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky_  
_Are also on the faces of people going by_  
_I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do_  
_They're really saying I love you_

 _I hear babies crying, I watch them grow_  
_They'll learn much more than I'll never know_  
_And I think to myself what a wonderful world_  
_Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world_

Everyone was cheering at the end, and Lucifer thanked the audience before he gestured Father Frank to get up, and they both approached Dan, Raphael not far behind. The detective wanted to ask how the club owner knew he was there, but all that came out was, “Are you alright, Mr. Morningstar?”

“Let’s go to the precinct,” was the neutral response. “Agent Simmons will be impatient to hear the information I gathered.”

“That bad, huh?” asked Dan sympathetically.

The smile Morningstar gave him did not reach his eyes, “Trust me, detective, you don’t want to know.”

Elegantly, he sauntered toward the exit of the club while giving Ms. Smith the order to stay for security reasons. She did not question it, but she glared venomously at Dan as if it was his fault Morningstar felt like crap.

“You’re taking your car?” asked the homicide detective.

“Since there is no chance in hell I’m letting a priest or my brother behind the wheel of the Corvette, I’m afraid you’ll have to either drive us or let me call a taxi.”

Father Frank took the front seat and the brothers sat in the back of Dan’s car. Using the rear-view mirror, he noticed that Morningstar was fighting sleep; he truly looked exhausted.

“So, any news on the case?”

“Plenty, but you’ll want to have your hands on a notepad for that.”

“You’ve got names,” Dan exclaimed in astonishment.

“Oh, do I ever,” muttered Morningstar darkly. Dan put his foot down on the gas after that statement. Once they were all gathered around the timeline Morningstar had magically created within the span of a second (and he would no longer think about that; it gave him a headache), the club owner began to talk.

“For the sake of Dr. Foster, I will forgo my…sources and simply tell you what I’ve learned after tapping into them.” He cleared his throat and continued. “As Dr. Foster suggested, it all started on Michaelmas last year, and included many prayers where they begged for Heaven’s mercy and the continued existence of the five sinful cities. The final pleas were spoken on Thursday night, precisely one year later, again asking for a sign that the cities were forgiven.” He scoffed dersively, “Predictably, God didn’t answer and they are preparing for the final stages, which includes, yet again, the six pleas of Abraham prior to the actual destruction of the cities. Only this time, they adapted. First plea was on Michaelmas without bloodshed, the second plea on Friday by ‘offering’ two souls per city, the third plea yesterday offering four souls, and tonight it will be five for each city. Tomorrow there will be six, and then…” He stopped.

“Do you know how exactly they intend on burning the cities?” asked Simmons. Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

“No,” replied Morningstar. “The followers don’t know, because they have faith in their leader, an angel, who promised to lay waste upon the sinful cities, starting with the most sinful of all.”

“Los Angeles?”

“Yes, thankfully.”

“Thankfully?” repeated Bianchi incredulously.

“It’ll be easier to stop them here than traveling across country, wouldn’t you say?” The club owner drawled sardonically.

“Who’s the leader?”

“He calls himself Bela Canaan these days,” replied he; it was hard to read what he was feeling. He could be sad or angry, or both. “Not very imaginative, I’d say. Bela is a Hebrew name synonymous with destruction. Sodom and Gomorrah existed in the land of Canaan.”

“What do you know about him?” Bianchi was starting to type on his laptop.

“He’s our brother. That’s all I know. I haven’t spoken to him in a lifetime. Any description I give you is not representative of the being he is today.”

Silence followed that statement.

“How long have you known?” hissed Simmons. “How long…?”

“Since this morning,” he frowned. “I told you. It’s not my fault if you don’t take anything I say seriously.”

“You were not making too much sense, Lucifer,” interjected Chloe. “You may have cracked the timeline, and the lore of _Gomorrah’s Fall_ matches with that of your family, and you did mention a brother but only in the context of that Sodom and Gomorrah story. How were we supposed to know that the cult’s leader could be your brother?”

“Brother,” Morningstar adressed Raphael, “Just to be sure, because I can’t always tell, but I didn’t happen to speak Arabic or Mandarin earlier, did I? Was I being unclear?” Alright, so Morningstar was not up for jokes. He was prickly and Dan did not want this whole conversation to derail like it did this morning.

“We’re sorry, man,” said he in order to soothe ruffled feathers. “You’ve got to understand that all this cult stuff is not exactly our area of expertise, and we kind of rely on you helping us understand the kind of people we’re dealing with.”

Morningstar tilted his head, “You’re very good at these de-escalation techniques, aren’t you?”

Dan had no idea how to respond, whether the man was mocking him or complimenting him; it was impossible to say, and the homicide detective just knew the club owner was deliberately pushing his buttons. It made him chuckle. “You’re… something.”

“Oh, you have no idea how many men and women have told me that,” grinned the would-be devil deviously.

“Alright, names please,” Chloe interrupted the pseudo-flirtatious moment. “So, the leader’s name is Bela Canaan, which sounds made up, so in case we don’t find anything on him, what other names do you have?”

What followed was an impressively long list. The man just listed them, one by one, without hesitation, though sometimes he was not sure about how they were spelled (“’ _R-E-I-D’ or ‘R-E-A-D’?_ ” – “ _How would I know? People usually don’t spell their names when they’re praying. I can tell you where they live, though”_ ). He did not use any kind of aid, just rattled them off one by one. An hour later, with four FBI agents and four detectives furiously writing down names, they asked Morningstar to narrow down the list.

“Some are just cult followers, right?” asked Chloe. “They might share the same doctrine, but not all of them will have actively killed people.”

“They’re all guilty, detective,” countered Lucifer. “Most are aware of what is happening, except for the little ones who have yet to lose their innocence, though some seem to be thinking in some very elaborate metaphors and don’t really wish for members of the LGBT community to be eviscerated, but most do fear that letting such ‘ _evil behavior’_ slide slims their chances of eternal bliss, and all believe that homosexuality is a sin and that these imaginary sinners must either reject their ‘lustful’ thoughts or must be punished. You’re right, though: each city holds of a core group of diehard followers with exactly seventeen ‘disciples’. No big surprise there. They are the ones who kill and make sure no information leaks.”

“Why seventeen?” asked Bianchi.

“The meaning of the number seventeen is to ‘overcome the enemy’ or ‘complete victory’. Not that brother dearest would know anything about its origins; he was born after the Flood.” Morningstar was definitely angry that his brother was involved. It was obvious to everyone that they could not really keep him on the case – conflict of interest – but he was giving them vital information, so they let him be for now.

“Do you know the names?”

“Yes, because, even though each of them received an Avenger name that is currently in use instead of their birth name – and no, I’m not talking about the Hulk or Iron Man – when you pray, I will always know all your names, every nickname you’ve ever been given.”

“Detective Douche?” suggested Dan, successfully causing Morningstar to burst into laughter. Good, he did not like this emotionless, cold, drained man they had been dealing with this past hour.

“Perhaps. Pray to me, and I’ll tell you what I hear,” suggested the club owner.

“No chance in hell, buddy,” replied Dan. That caused Morningstar’s facial expression to falter.

“I hope not, Detective Daniel. But you must be careful. Hell’s sometimes closer than we think,” there was a warning tone and just a hint of fear in Morningstar’s voice that caused Dan to clear his throat uncomfortably.

“Anything you want to tell me, Morningstar?”

“Yes,” was the instant response. “Let got off whatever guilt you may feel, or it’ll drag you down.” His eyes flickered over to Dr. Foster, then to Dan but stopped there, as if he was afraid for only the two of them.

“Can we just get on with this?” interrupted Detective Martin, and the club owner’s face was blank and cold within a second.

“Oh, you bet, Officer,” growled Morningstar, “Guess I should warn you, too, and your partner. I’ve never been very kind to bullies and homophobic brutes, so you should pray that the balance tips in your favor, or you will not enjoy the afterlife.” After that peculiar threat, he smiled wildly and proceeded to give them the names and location of the seventeen disciples per city, most were men but there were also a handful of women in the mix. Many of them had been highly ranked in either the cult of _Divine Judgment_ (Dr. Foster lost more than a bit of color as familiar names were mentioned) or _Justice of Michael._

“Do we have anything to bring them in for? Any soundbites, anything that will allow us to arrest them? Some of them have felony charges, I know that, but we can’t just arrest them with no legal ground to stand on.”

“Why arrest them, Agent Bianchi, if we just need to talk to them about these terrible murders?” asked Morningstar. “If we distract them long enough, separate them and they fail tonight, their little ritual is interrupted even further, and they must call in their leader for guidance. Klor-Canaan is all we need to stop this. In addition, we should warn the LGBT community across the country. It worked wonderfully here in LA; it can work in other cities as well.”

“Good idea,” said Chloe, “but we should come up with a plan if they don’t want to talk.”

“Well, given that the cults they used to be in were investigated by the FBI, most of these names can be found on lists. We could always say that we’re doing a study,” suggested Dr. Foster. “I know some of these men, and it appears that they abolished quite a few of their old beliefs…only to replace them with an even worse philosophy, but that’s not the point. I think I could get some of them to talk.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Tara?” asked Simmons worriedly.

“Well,” said the doctor. “If Morningstar and Raphael can stay on a case that involves their own brother, then I can conduct these interviews. We should call in Dr. Linda, however. I feel like we both could use someone of her caliber.”

Morningstar nodded absently.

“Alright, let’s locate them, and pull whatever files we have on them,” said Dan. “Let’s get to work.”

They worked fast, because it was already late, and they could not miss these men leaving home, or innocent people would be endangered. The FBI agents did their best to coordinate their strategy nationwide and to relay all the information they had received. Unfortunately, they had hardly any evidence; most of their current knowledge was based on Morningstar’s intel and Dr. Foster’s theories. They needed some hard evidence fast, or they could be in huge trouble.

Needing a breath of fresh air, he stepped outside and overheard a strange conversation between Father Frank and Morningstar. 

_“-still believe? Frank, my own brothers haven’t talked to him in eons, why would you think he still cares?”_

Dan peaked around the corner, where Father Frank was standing with an unlit cigarette in his hands, and an agitated Morningstar, who was smoking a cigarette, leaned against the cold wall of the precinct.

“Because he’s still here. In the form of you and your siblings. He has a plan, Lucifer; you know that. I don’t think he abandoned us. God would not abandon all of his children,” retorted Father Frank calmly. “He’s not cruel. I’ve learned in the past few days that he can make terrible mistakes, but I do not believe he deliberately fails us. He is just.”

“Just?” Morningstar hissed. “What about Dr. Foster? She’s done nothing! Yet her guilt regarding the circumstances of her sister’s death is slowly dragging her soul to Hell. Her own twin sister, Sierra Foster, killed herself, and that is a one-way ticket into my domain. That isn’t just; that isn’t fair. Just an arbitrary rule made up by Dad.”

“And poor Dr. Foster,” the club owner continued. “She hasn’t done a thing. She’s been a victim every step of the way, but she’s bound for Hell for no other reason than the love and connection between two sisters. Tell me, how is that fair or just?” asked the club owner, who had not noticed Dan’s approach.

“Well, you are here, trying desperately to change her fate. That is how I know he’s with us, Lucifer,” replied Father Frank resolutely, which made the other man chuckle ruefully.

“Oh, you give us celestials far too much credit.”

Shit, he never let that craziness go, did he? He really believed he was the devil.

“At least you refer to yourself as an angel now,” smiled the priest, and Dan shook his head. Really, Lawrence believed Morningstar’s delusions?

“Oh, I’ve always been and will remain an angel, Frank; just a fallen, scourged one.”

“I’m not afraid of your scars.”

The club owner chuckled darkly, and for some reason, Dan’s every instinct told him to either get out of here, or to close his eyes.

“No? You didn’t look earlier.”

“Because you asked me not to, and because Raphael told me that it isn’t wise to look at you when you take the role of the Punisher. Apparently, you’ve always been scary when you were forced to do that, before and after your Fall. You are terrifying because you bring God’s judgment upon us, not because of your scars.”

“So you want to see?” whispered Morningstar, looking broken and tired, but not angry anymore.

“I’m not afraid,” was the solemn reply, a supportive hand on the tired man’s shoulder.

Next thing Dan knew was that he opened his mouth to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://www.biblestudy.org/bibleref/meaning-of-numbers-in-bible/17.html
> 
> Headcanon: Lucifer uses his devil face to punish, but that's not that what frightens people. He was a punisher before he Fell. What frightens people is to be face to face with divine justice. Linda (and Chloe) were just faced with their own belief system crumbling; it's not the same as when Lucifer looked into Jimmy Barnes' face to drive him insane.
> 
> And come on, What a Wonderful World is basically Lucifer's song, especially after he said to his mother and Amenadiel in Season 2: "Hell wasn't home and Heaven was, well, hell!"
> 
> Next up:  
> Chapter 20: The City of Fallen Angels


	20. The City of Fallen Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finds a panicked Dan, and learns a thing or two about the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I ever told you that I adore Linda? Well, here's an accolade for her.
> 
>  
> 
> Moreover:  
> Please remember – in this AU, it’s just the desire powers that don’t work on Chloe. He’s not becoming human/vulnerable around her. My reasoning is the following – if that were the case, and he becomes mortal around her, it would automatically mean that none of his powers should work around her – no desire power, no superstrength, no devil face, nothing. What they did in the show works for the show, and I adore the show, but it makes no sense (and yes, this is me discussing the logic of a show about the devil). So, in this AU: She’s immune to his desire powers, because she’s literally here but for the grace of God, but that’s it. That was originally enough to have him interested in her on the show, and it’s enough here.

Chloe met Dan ages ago. Sometimes it was hard to remember a time before he became a part of her life. In all these years, she had never heard him scream like that. She rushed outside, not even bothering to call for backup, and saw her ex pressed against a wall; his eyes wide and full of terror.

“Dan?” she asked, hand on her gun, looking for possible attackers. He did not react to her voice at all, simply continued to stare straight ahead. Following his gaze, she saw Father Frank standing next to a crouching Lucifer whose hands were raised in a calming gesture.

“Detect-,” began Father Frank, but Dan just shook his head harshly.

“No!” shouted Dan, absolutely frantic, backing up against the wall even further. His actions were completely irrational. He was right by the corner. He only had to move a few feet and there would be no wall keeping him from running away, though why he wanted to do that, she had no idea.

“Dan? What happened?” asked Chloe softly. She looked at the priest and Lucifer, the first seemed worried and the latter was… crushed.

Utterly defeated.

He was still crouching down, unmoving, silently imploring that he was no threat. Even though she had no idea what was going on, it did not take a genius to find out who was responsible. After all, she had seen Lucifer scaring the living bejesus out of hardened criminals.

“What did you do?”

“Detective, I-“

Dan flinched, and Lucifer instantly fell silent.

“What happened?” Raphael’s voice had her turn around, but Dan grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from Lucifer’s brother. He was strong and the hand around his wrist was so tight, it made her gasp in both pain and surprise.

Lucifer instantly rose to his full height, _“Let go of her.”_

That was a growl, not just a command. Dan obeyed instantly and, to Chloe’s horror, Trixie’s Dad whimpered and tried to curl into himself.

“Lucifer, stop!” Raphael’s voice resonated, and Chloe looked from brother to brother, her hands on Dan’s trembling shoulders.

“What did you do?” she snapped at Lucifer, who lifted his hands.

“Nothing,” replied the man softly. “He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Was he drugged?” asked Chloe. “Did he come into contact with the same stuff that drove Jimmy Barnes insane?” She was still unsure how exactly Lucifer scared people, but given the man’s affinity for recreational drug use, he could use some cocktail that contained various hallucinogenic drugs, which altered a person’s perception.

“Detective Decker, please, you’re not helping,” said Raphael and he kneeled down, keeping himself at a respectful distance from Dan.

“Detective Espinoza, may I call you Daniel?” he began gently. Dan’s terror-filled eyes met Raphael’s and he nodded slowly. “Daniel, I know you’re scared. I know your entire world has just turned on its axis, but please, bear with me. _Do not be afraid_.”

Chloe did not know why, but something about the way he said it, calmed her down. She felt like she could breathe again, like everything was going to be fine. Dan too, relaxed a fraction. Out of the corner of his eyes, she saw Father Frank relax as well. Lucifer turned his face away, leaning against the wall.

“Do you know what he is?” whispered Dan. “Do you?”

“I know what you saw,” was the doctor’s even reply, “but Daniel, that’s not who he is. He’s my big brother, and one of the gentlest souls I know. Hear me and believe me. He meant you no harm, and I believe he didn’t want you to see either. Daniel, we need you. Please come back to us. Innocent people will die if we don’t move soon.”

Dan nodded slowly, the reminder of his duties obviously bringing him back to some sort of reality. Trembling in every limb, the homicide detective, her ex with whom she was still married, one of the strongest and bravest men she knew, looked up to Raphael and breathed, “I can’t unsee.”

“Tell me, what do you do with all these haunting crime scenes? The horrors you see as part of your job? They’re not always in your head, are they? What do you do with them?”

“I file them,” whispered Dan. “I file them, and put them in a box.”

“That is good,” praised Raphael, his voice never wavering. “Do the same with what you’re seeing now.”

“He’s a monster,” Dan gasped. “I can’t-“

Lucifer’s face was still turned away, but Chloe could see him lower his head in response. Father Frank’s hand was on his shoulder in supportive gesture. She had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that Lucifer was responsible for Dan’s current state, and that he had not meant to. The would-be devil would have stood proud and tall if whatever happened to her ex was intentional.

“No, he’s not,” contradicted Raphael. “He’s still the same man you’ve known moments before. He would never deliberately harm an innocent. He didn’t want to shock or hurt you; he probably didn’t even know you were there, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. He was talking to Father Lawrence,” Dan replied, sounding calmer with each word that left the healer’s lips. “He didn’t know.”

“Father Frank was right there with you, closer even, and he’s not afraid, is he?”

“Maybe Mor-Morningstar bewitched him or something. Has him under his thrall,” suggested Dan and it killed Chloe to hear the pragmatic, down-to-earth father of her daughter speak nonsense like that.

Lucifer scoffed, his face still turned away, “Detective Daniel, I’m the devil, not a vampire. And before you ask, Father Frank is as human as you are. My brother is an angel, as we’ve established before-“

“Lucifer, please, let me,” interrupted Raphael. “He’s right, Daniel. One thing you can count on is my brother’s honesty. He does not lie.”

“But he’s-“

“Of all the wrong monikers my brother has received over the years, ‘King of all Evil’ and ‘Father of Lies’ are the least accurate of all.”

That was the last straw. She marched over to Lucifer, ignoring the priest, and planted herself in front of him. She was so furious she could barely speak, “ _What did you do_?”

“Detect-“

“Don’t ‘ _detective’_ me, Lucifer. No jokes, no deflections, no fairytales of you being the devil. What did you do to him?” she hissed.

“ _Chloe_!” Dan’s voice was filled with real fear as if she was not facing a thirty-something club owner but a rabid bear or a hardened, ruthless killer.

“Detective, I swear to you. I did nothing to him.”

“It’s drugs, isn’t it? That’s how you do it. What was it? Hallucinogens like LSD, peyote, 251? Angel Dust?” She grabbed his shirt with her left hand and shoved him against the wall. “What did you do to him?”

“Chloe? What’s going on here?” Linda had her purse pressed against her side and was approaching them as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. “Let’s talk about this, shall we? Could somebody tell me what happened? Father Frank? Chloe, please, let go off Lucifer,” she commanded firmly but gently, causing Chloe to let go and take a step back. Her hand was still on her weapon.

Father Frank was silent, and he looked at Lucifer as if asking for permission or guidance. The man in question briefly covered his mouth with his right hand before he sighed and closed his eyes, “Padre, could you please keep the other detectives and agents from leaving the building for the next couple of minutes? I think this might get complicated.”

“Wait, please,” said Lucifer’s therapist before she walked over to Dan. “Detective Espinoza, one of us should briefly go inside to make sure we can have a private conversation. Who do you want to go?”

“Morningstar,” was the immediate, whispered response. “Morningstar.”

Accepting Dan’s request, Lucifer made his way to the precinct entrance, but froze when Chloe’s ex further curled into himself upon the club owner’s approach.

“I’ll take the other way around,” said the club owner softly. Just when he was about to disappear from their sight, Dan made a noise that was filled with fear and desperation. He called him back, his mouth opened as if he could not get enough oxygen. He gasped, “Don’t! I can’t let you out of my sight.”

Slowly, Lucifer returned, “We’re too late anyway.”

As if on cue, the doors of the precinct opened, and Martin, McEnroe and multiple FBI agents left the building.

“What happened here?” asked Simmons.

“Everything is under control, Agent Simmons,” said Linda in a tone that brooked no argument. “Detective Espinoza had a bit of a scare, but we’re handling it. Why don’t you go ahead with the plan of finding the men who’ve been terrorizing this city’s LGBTQ community before the next attack is foiled by a group of war veterans that will not be inclined to take prisoners in order to protect one of their own.” Her voice was laced with steel, and Special Agent Simmons was wise enough to listen to her. He gave Chloe a list of names and addresses they should check out as soon as this ‘intervention or off-the-cuff therapy session’ was over. They would stay in contact over the radio.

Shortly after, only Father Lawrence, the two would-be angelic brothers, Dan, Chloe and Linda remained.

Obviously impressed, Lucifer chuckled and clasped his hands together with a broad smile, “Alright! Excellent work, Dr. Linda! Where do you wish to have this conversation?”

“Daniel?” Linda turned to the homicide detective who was still desperately trying and failing to calm down. “You have all the power here. You obviously don’t want to lose sight of Lucifer, because you are afraid of him. Now, tell us, how do you want to go from here? Shall we go back inside or remain here out in the open? Where do you want us to be?”

Dan turned to her, his eyes still wide and a bit glassy, “I want to see if he can bleed.”

“No, detective, no, that is not acceptable,” countered Linda sharply. “Is it okay if I call you Dan?” Again, the homicide detective nodded. “Dan, we’re not hurting each other. You’re not hurting Lucifer. But you can tell us what you want us to do next.”

He took a couple of deep breaths and said haltingly, “Chloe must step away from him.”

“Where do you want her to be?” she asked calmly.

“Closer t-to you.”

Linda asked Chloe to come over to her.

“Good, Dan, now where do you want to have this conversation?”

“Inside. Not here. Inside, it’s safer… It’s… He must go first, ca-can’t let him out of my sight. Slowly!” He added when Lucifer did as he was asked. “Downstairs in the workout room. He goes inside first, stays in the middle of the room, us by the door. Lights are all turned on. No sha-shadows. Okay?”

“Okay, let’s do that,” said the therapist, gently gesturing Lucifer to go ahead, before asking Dan what he needed next.

“My gun, I-“

“No, no gun. Both you and Chloe are going to store your guns away safely in the precinct’s gun locker for the duration of this conversation. This is for your own safety as well as Lucifer’s.” Chloe obeyed and managed to coax Dan away from his gun as well.

One of officers doing the weekend shift noticed their little group and asked whether everything was okay or whether she should call an ambulance. Chloe assured her that things were under control. Once they were left alone again, Linda continued as if nothing happened.

“Also, and this is important, Dan, while you are in charge and in control, I want to remind you that Lucifer has the absolute right to refuse if you demand something of him he doesn’t want to do. Do you understand that, Dan?” said Linda, once the guns were locked away.

“Yes,” answered Dan numbly.

“Lucifer, do you understand that you have the right to walk out anytime? I’m not forcing you to stay here.”

Chloe was impressed. The psychiatrist had given Dan all the power and he was obviously still in charge of this session, but now that the obvious threat – Dan’s gun, which he had never drawn, but had fingered multiple times – was out of the way, Linda made sure Lucifer was aware of his own rights. The club owner confirmed that he understood.

“Very good. Dan, tell me: we are six people. How many of us do you trust? Who do you trust?”

“Chloe,” was the immediate response. “you… and, God! I-Father Frank’s not a bad guy, he’s been nothing but kind. Not sure about trust, though.”

“You’re doing great, Dan,” Linda said gently. “What about Raphael?”

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Dan. “I don’t know,” he repeated in a lower tone. “He’s not-, but he’s his brother, I-“

“That is a fair point. Do you wish to have somebody else with us? Somebody to tip the balance of trust, so to speak. Another detective perhaps?”

“No! I can’t, it’s too dangerous!” Dan’s eyes were so wide and fearful it seriously disconcerted Chloe.

“Detective Daniel,” interjected Lucifer cautiously and softly. “No matter what you choose to believe I am, please know that I would never hurt an innocent.”

Dan was quiet for a very long moment, then he nodded, inhaled sharply and nodded again, “Yes, okay. Ella. She’s in the lab, right? Ella’s good.”

“That is good, Dan. This means you trust Lucifer to tell you the truth. Very good. Okay, Father Frank, could you please go fetch Ella?”

To Chloe’s astonishment, a pained noise escaped Lucifer’s lips and Linda instantly turned toward him, “Lucifer, please remember: you can always make use of your right to veto one of Dan’s wishes. You’re not alone here. If you don’t want Ella with us while we work this out, it is your right to say so.”

“No,” the would-be devil shook his head. “It’s…it’s fine. I-It’ll be over soon.”

With that, Father Frank stepped away to fetch forensic scientist. Once they were in the workout room, Lucifer elegantly strolled into the middle of the room. All the lights were on, but where he stood, it was remarkably dark.

“Aren’t there any more lights?” asked Dan, fearful eyes fixed on the club owner. Lucifer closed his eyes as if in pain and spread his arms slightly. For some reason, the room’s lights intensified after that, including the light around him. He sat down, knees up, arms loosely around the knees to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible. He appeared calm and in control, but Chloe knew that he was not relaxed; he would make far more jokes and be far less still and quiet if he were.

“Now, let’s talk,” said Linda. “What scared you so much, Dan?”

“He’s not human,” whispered her ex in response. “He can’t be. No human could-.”

“We’re listening, Dan, take your time,” said the therapist gently.

“He was standing right there, with Father Frank, and then he _changed_. His face…” Again he halted, and Chloe started to hate these short pauses, because they spoke of just how rattled Dan had to be. “His eyes… Red eyes.”

“Okay, so Lucifer’s eyes were…red,” if that weirded her out as much as Chloe, she did not let anyone see it. Meanwhile, the homicide detective tried to remember all the things she learned about mind-altering drugs back at the academy. “How would you interpret his expression?”

“Have you heard a word I said?” snapped Dan. “They were red!” He took a quick, aggressive step toward her, and Lucifer tensed.

“I heard you,” replied Linda, not missing a beat, but gesturing Lucifer to stay put. Unsurprisingly, the man had shifted position, ready to spring to Linda’s defence if necessary. “But again, don’t focus on how strange they may have looked, but think of the feelings they conveyed. Were they angry? Cruel? Devious? Sad? Fearful? Happy? What do you think he felt in that moment you looked at him?”

Dan paused, breathing heavily, disbelievingly, but then the shaking of his head stopped and he took his time to think.

“Sad,” was the slow reply. “Sad and hesitant. Careful not to move.” He turned his head to look at the club owner, “Do they hurt? The scars? I mean-I don’t-“

Lucifer’s entire expression, which had been unreadable and cold up to this point, softened and slipped into wonder, “Oh, Detective Daniel, I am so sorry.”

“What? Sor-why sorry?”

“For underestimating you,” was the quiet reply. “Compassion is your virtue, isn’t it?” His lips twitched, just a bit, but then he shook his head, “To answer your question: I can’t say; they’ve been there for so long, I don’t remember not feeling them.”

“God!” exclaimed Dan covering nose and mouth with both of his hands as he continued to stare at Lucifer. For once, Lucifer said nothing; he simply nodded.

Linda continued to mediate between Trixie’s father and the club owner who claimed to be the devil, “Compassion is good. So then, if you remember that he looked sad, fearful, and in pain, and he did nothing to threaten you… Why are you afraid?”

“Because he’s the devil!” Dan shouted, gesturing wildly at Lucifer. “He’s-“ then he laughed hysterically. “He tells us all the time, but we don’t believe him, because why would we? It’s brilliant! I gotta hand it to you, you really don’t lie, do you?” Lucifer remained silent. “Am I going to Hell? Answer me!” he hissed when Lucifer remained silent. The man in question did not look up.

“You feel guilty,” answered the would-be devil. “I don’t know what about. It’s drowning you, and it tags you for my domain, true, but you’re a good man, detective. All you need to do is let go off the guilt. I don’t want you there.”

“Isn’t the purpose of the devil to get as many soul as he can?” retorted Dan, and Chloe could not believe what she was hearing.

Lucifer, who usually never hesitated to loudly proclaim what the devil’s true purpose was, simply shook his head, “I’m not a soul-collecter, Daniel. I’m a jailer, a torturer maybe, but I do not find satisfaction or pleasure in capturing innocent souls. I’d rather punish the guilty than trapping good souls in my domain.”

“That’s it, stop it!” Chloe lost all patience. “Lucifer, there is a good chance that this cult is going to kill twenty-five people tonight, and you’re wasting our valuable time drugging Dan and convincing him that you’re the devil when we could be out there, making sure people are safe. Of all the selfish-“

“ _Detective Decker_!” Linda barked sharply. Chloe flinched and was relieved that she continued in that calm timbre she was familiar with. “Dan just had a severely traumatic experience, and I don’t care what brought it about, or who’s responsible for it, but you’re _not_ going to stay here and accuse Lucifer of deliberately inducing a pathological fear response in Dan. You have every right to leave, but as long as I’m handling this, you’re not going to interfere. Is that clear?”

Her voice was steely and resolute. Chloe simply nodded.

“Lucifer, do you have any idea what he saw?” asked Linda calmly.

“My face,” Lucifer breathed. “Frank told me he wasn’t afraid, and to his credit, he truly wasn’t.” He offered the priest a brief, fond nod. “But Dan happened to look, and well, I guess it’s easier to take if you’re a true believer.”

“Okay, Lucifer. I think you’ve got to be honest with us here. Your face is-“ For the first time since Linda entered the premises, her voice faltered, and she wore that dreamy sort of expression Chloe had witnessed on their first meeting. She cleared her throat harshly. “There is nothing wrong with your face.”

“No, not this face,” replied the club owner gesturing at himself in a vain attempt at levity. “My devil-face. Well, I... It’s kind of a long story, but when Dad cast me out, my wings were broken, meaning that, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fly from Heaven to Hell, so I had to physically be brought to the opposite realm. Moreover, he had to make sure I stayed, so in order to render me powerless I-” he gritted his teeth. “I was burned out, thrown across the universe through the very stars I created. I recovered after a while, but,” he nervously wrung his hands, “Not fully, and, let’s just say that I’m not exactly easy on the eyes in my devil form.”

“Okay,” said Linda, completey accepting this idiotic metaphor. “So you have scars you wish to hide. Many people do. But scars wouldn’t scare a man like Dan; he’s a homicide detective with several years of experience under his belt. Can you show us what he saw?”

“Dr. Martin,” Raphael interjected. “You’ve been doing an excellent job so far, and I hate to interupt, but you don’t understand what you’re asking for, and I think, instead of seeing Lucifer’s other face, there are more gentle ways to introduce you to the existence of the divine.”

“Brother-“ Lucifer sighed. “You shouldn’t- If Dad finds out about this…”

“Then so be it,” was the resolute reply. “If he casts me to Hell alongside you, at least I won’t have to endure it all alone.” He addressed the rest of the group, “As we told you, I am the Archangel Raphael and healing is my domain. Does anyone have an injury? A visible one, so that I can show you who we truly are?”

Dan stared at him. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t, Detective Daniel,” replied Raphael.

“You can heal any injury or illness?”

“It’s complicated. However, if you broke your leg, I would be able to mend it within minutes instead of letting it heal over the course of a month.”

“Okay, let’s see just how truthful you guys are.” With that, and before anyone could stop him, Dan hopped onto a spinning bike, pedalled quickly to get the wheels into action and smashed his hand full-force into the spinning wheel.

“Oh my God!” Both Linda and Ella exclaimed in shock. Chloe ran over to Dan who inspected his own hand, which was bloody and torn. Several fingers appeared to be broken. He didn’t even gasp in pain, just stared at his hand numbly.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Chloe gasped. Dan was breathing heavily, and he gritted his teeth to hide the pain he was starting to feel before presenting his hand, “You all see this, right?” He asked before walking over to Lucifer’s brother putting broken hand into the healer’s open palms. “Archangel Raphael? Heal me.”

Without hesitation, and as gently as one would hold an injured bird, Raphael took Dan’s hand, closed his eyes, and a gasp escaped Dan when a bronze-colored glow engulfed his ruined hand, and the wound closed before their very eyes revealing unblemished skin and bone. Only a few drops of blood remained.

Speechless, Chloe looked from the hand to Raphael, “How did y-? I saw it, you-how…?”

A thump had her whirl around. Ella was on her knees, staring at the hand before she looked at Raphael, “Do you have wings?”

“Yes, I do, Ms. Lopez,” replied Raphael gently.

“Can I see?” she asked, her eyes full of wonder.

“Not right now, because I think Detective Decker and Dr. Martin must first recover from their shock. How’re you doing, Daniel?”

Dan nodded quickly. “Fine, I’m fine. Never better, I-thanks!”

Chloe’s world just collapsed, the only thing remaining was broken glass, crumbled stone and splinters of wood. She could not remember a time she actually believed in a God. When she had been a child, perhaps, but her family had never been religious. She did not even believe in an afterlife. This was not happening; this had to be some sort of trick. She whirled over to Lucifer who was standing several feet apart.

Linda also seemed to remember her patient, and she took a few steps towards him, but stopped once she realized what she was doing.

“They aren’t metaphors, are they?”

“No, Dr. Linda,” smiled Lucifer sadly.

“Heaven, hell, it’s all real,” she breathed.

“Yes,” the literal _devil_ replied.

“Why would you even-“she started laughing hysterically. “Welcome to LA where even the devil has a therapist, I mean…” Her eyes were wide, panicked, but she did not back away. “You’re the actual devil.”

“Yes.” was the cautious reply, and he lifted his right hand giving a tiny wave, “Hello!”

He gave Linda that charming smile, which inexplicably seemed to work on so many women.

“I had sex with the devil,” the therapist gasped. “I had-I’m going to Hell, aren’t I?”

“No,” was the firm reply. “Why would you think that? No, you’re not going to Hell. None of you will if I have any say about it.”

“Okay, okay, I can work with that, that’s…” Then Linda froze. “If you’re not talking in metaphors, then everything you told us is true and you… On my way here, Dr. Foster briefed me on what we call ‘your lore’ and how it is connected to _Gomorrah’s Fall_ , but… Sodom and Gomorrah really happened. You-”

“Destroyed four cities in a night, yes,” said Lucifer, not looking up from examining his hands. “As per Dad’s orders, but yes.”

“How does that make you feel?” asked Linda.

“Excuse me?” Surprised, Lucifer caught his therapist’s gaze. If somebody asked Chloe what the devil (again, the devil, the actual devil) currently looked like, she would have compared him to a lost puppy.

“Well,” Linda pacing a bit, but keeping her voice even, though she was gesturing a bit more than usual “obviously you’re still my patient, and as long as you are, I get to ask you that question… How does that make you feel?”

Lucifer’s expression shifted into a more neutral one. There was a moment of silence before he said quietly with an unmistakable undertone of resentment, “Like an attack dog that is released from its pen for a night, only to be put back once the job is done.”

“That is an interesting comparison,” said the therapist. “I-“ then she seemed to come back to herself and realized how all eyes and ears were trained on her. “I’m sorry, Lucifer. This was not what I-we should not be doing this-I…“ Shallow breaths escaped her, and she was trembling allover.

“Dr. Linda,” said Lucifer very gently, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out to her but decided against it, “you’re doing marvelously, my dear. I _know_. It’s alright. I prefer this over silence.”

The surreal madness of it all made her wonder whether it was all just a trick, and he was just pretending to be kind and gentle and uncharacteristically patient. Then she remembered Raphael, his ability to heal and his identity as an archangel, and she had no idea what to think. Was this all some sort of scam to lure them into thinking they were not dangerous?

Long-forgotten visits to the church with her Dad’s parents came to her mind…

_“And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.”_

Could she trust anything either of them said? Was this some elaborate trick (but part of her knew it was not. She _knew_. This was just another piece of the puzzle she had been trying to solve since she had first witnessed him extract information with nothing but the question, ‘ _What is it that you desire?’_ ).

Linda took a deep breath and took a cursory sweep about the room letting Lucifer out of her sight while doing so, which prompted Chloe to do the same. Both brothers were standing in the middle of the room, close together. Dan seemed to be slowly recovering from his shock. He was holding out a hand for Ella, who seemed speechless, but mostly just elated.

No surprise there.

Ella’s worldview probably did not tilt more than toward the ‘ _I was right_ ’ category rather than the ‘ _God exists, angels exist and what does this mean for humans?_ ’ category. Father Frank was like a rock, steadying her and talking to Ella in a low, fatherly voice, which had the forensic scientist smile at him.

Dan looked at the bike he had used to hurt himself; there was a bit of blood on the wheel. Cautiously, he looked over to the two brothers and quibbed, “I don’t suppose you guys can wave your hand and make this disappear, do you?”

Lucifer’s tilted his head, pretending to be outraged, “We’re angels, Detective Daniel, not Mary Poppins.”

“Right,” Dan nodded, inhaled through his noise and continued, “We should probably get going, I mean… Chloe said it earlier. We need to make sure nobody gets hurt tonight.”

“Good point, detective,” said Raphael and straightened up. “We must stop Klorel before-“

“Stop right there!” interrupted Linda. “That’s…yes,” she pointed her finger at the two brothers as if she just had an epiphany, “that’s what I wanted to discuss with you two before,” she laughed nervously. “Well, before I learned that I’m the devil’s therapist.” She clasped her hands together, cackled hysterically, which was followed by a sharp clearing of her throat, and addressed both Lucifer and Raphael. “Klorel is y-an angel, does that make him dangerous? No wait, that’s not what I wanted to say. Just how powerf-no, the most important thing is,” said she, making fists with both of her hands, pressing her lips together and Chloe could swear she could hear her mutter ‘focus, Linda!’ before she addressed the devil, “Lucifer, he’s your brother. Cel-ahahaha, I can’t believe, I’m saying this, but celestial being or not, this must be an incredible strain on you.” Her voice slowly reassumed that calm, even tone that soothed Chloe effectively. “He’s committed terrible crimes against a community I know you feel very protective of. He indirectly threatened your patrons and your staff, your, well, family here in L-Earth, here on Earth.” Chloe had no idea how she could remain this calm, now actively trying to emulate Lucifer’s turn of phrases.

“He has,” said Lucifer calmly. “And I’ll punish him for it.”

“It’s not that easy when it’s family,” Linda contradicted. “Even as estranged as you are from yours and regardless how long – how incredibly, unbelievingly long – you’ve had no or only sporadic contact, you still want to protect them.”

“He killed people or at the very least, he instigated it,” countered Lucifer. “And that’s just the past year, who knows what he’s been up to for the past millenia? Well, I will find out and he’ll be punished, because I cannot let it stand.”

Linda nodded, “I know that you have a very heightened sense of right and wrong,” she giggled nervously, and lifted both of her hands to emphasize her point, “I mean, an enormously heightened sense of- and who could blame you, really? You’re the highest authority there is, aren’t you? You’re not just judge, or jailer, or… You’re judge, jury and executioner of the highest laws in the universe. Your sentences cannot be reversed…”

Lucifer frowned, “Well, Dad could.”

Her eyes wide, Linda nodded making a dismissive gesture with her hand while continuing with a very flat tone of voice, “Unless the creator of the universe himself decides to butt in, so, yes, your heightened sense of right and wrong suddenly makes a lot more sense.”

“Dr. Linda,” said Lucifer gently, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

And that helpless, utterly trusting question seemed to effectively erase Linda’s agitation, and her next words were motherly and concerned, “You’ll have to punish your own flesh and blood. That can’t be easy for you.”

“But if I don’t,” countered the devil calmly. “If I don’t,” he repeated, “then there is no balance and no justice. If I don’t, what then? You know, people don’t commit or fail to commit crimes because they fear Hell, not for a long time, and even back in the days… People do what they do out of their own free will, always have. My _job_ is to make sure that people who either unfavorably tipped the balance of right and wrong, or who committed unforgivable sins, get their due. It’s what I’ve always done. Most of the time, souls punish themselves anyway, I just give them a room, and that is all. But those who believe they did no wrong even though they’ve committed horrible crimes, well,” the smile that followed was dangerous and merciless, “that’s what we’re here for. I don’t know which category Klorel belongs to, but I will see, and my punishment will be based on that, not on family bonds.”

Silence followed that.

If a tiny part of Chloe’s primal brain was still squeaking about how this could not be happening, the stone-cold tone of Lucifer’s voice eradicated that.

He was the devil.

Her almost-partner was the actual, literal devil.

A monster, the tempter, evil personified according to all she knew.

A good boss who cared about his staff.

A strange, frustrating yet remarkably endearing partner.

An amazing piano player.

Someone that did not believe in a monogamous lifestyle but could remember the phone number and address of a one-time lover’s fiancé because they returned to keep him up to date on their lives.

Someone who seemed to have formed strong ties and friendships with his staff, his therapist, and his lovers. And a priest, for some reason.

What the hell was she supposed to think (pun absolutely intended)?

She needed time, and she could not think while she was down here, looking at them. She would think about this later, once she was away from the devil and his brother.

“We should leave and find his followers,” she suggested and Dan pointed to her.

“Yes, we should.”

Father Frank nodded, “That is a good idea We’ll leave you to it. Ms. Lopez, what would you say if we go grab a bite at a piano bar that’s just around the corner? I know the owner; she’s had a fascinating life.”

“Is this a date, Father?” grinned Ella, which made the priest laugh out loud. “Ms. Lopez, you’re young enough to be friends with my daughter.” He sobered a bit, but his eyes still shone brightly. “She would’ve liked you.”

Gently, aware of the grief in his voice, she offered her arm, “Tell me all about her.”

On their way out, they were stopped by Lucifer’s voice, “Frank, I-“

“Don’t worry, Lucifer. I’ll see you back home in a couple of hours.”

Chloe saw the devil’s expression melt into that of a lost boy.

“Home?”

“Of course,” smiled the priest. “I’ll see you later, my friend.”

“Yeah, that,” contrite laughter followed. “I might need a list, or a how-to guide. Whichever you prefer.”

Father Lawrence chuckled, “No need. You’re already doing a great job.” With that, he almost managed to leave, but this time, Ella was called back by a careful sounding, “Miss Lopez?”

“Oh, dude, I have so many questions,” Ella’s smile was bright and open, and Chloe felt a wave of envy for how naturally she took the news. “I mean astrophysics – never my field of expertise – but you made the stars! Can’t wait to ask you about that stuff. And I told you: the devil gets a bad rap. See you later.”

With that and a swift goodbye, they left. Lucifer looked after them with an expression that Chloe could not hope to interpret.

Linda cautiously approached him, and asked, “Are you alright, Lucifer?”

The devil nodded abruptly and confirmed that he was ready to go.

There was another moment of tension when Chloe and Dan retrieved their weapons, but Dan inhaled sharply, “Yeah, that’s-yeah, let’s go. Who’s on the list?”

But before Chloe could check, one of the officers approached them and said that there was an urgent call from Lux to Mr. Morningstar, which had them all rush to the next phone. He put it on speaker.

“What happened?”

“Boss, we need you!”

“Patrick? What’s going on?” It could be in her imagination, but it sounded to her like there was quite a bit of commotion in the background.

“Maze’s holding them off for now, but there are almost twenty of them, and one of them’s not… He’s throwing her around like a ragdoll.” The barkeeper sounded freaked out by that. Not that Chloe could blame him. “She can’t hold him for long. The club’s cleared, nobody got harmed ‘cause their target’s Maze, but they’ve got guns and knives, and know how to use them.”

“Where are you now? Who’s still in the club?” asked an agitated Lucifer whose face was ashen.

“Patrons are all out. Most of the staff is, too. We did as you guys told us. Some escaped through the underground routes with security. Carl and Marcus were amazing, boss.”

“What about you?”

“In the staff room,” the man was about two seconds away from panicking, but it seemed like talking to Lucifer helped. “The bar was cut off from the exits, so this was my only means of escape. I’m here wih Carol, Tamra and Damian.”

“Stay where you are,” growled Lucifer. His eyes gleamed dangerously. “I’ll be there in a second.” He hung up the phone and prowled towards the exit.

“Shall I take you, brother?” called Raphael after him.

“No,” replied the devil, his voice low and dangerous. “Klorel wants to fight the devil. So be it.”

And with that, he walked away far more quickly than Chloe expected. They all followed him, but had to stop when a bright flash of light from around the corner almost blinded them. By the time they reached that point, he was already gone.

“What did he do?” asked Dan. “Did he… fold space and time, or something?”

“No,” denied Raphael. “That’s not his domain. Amenadiel could, but not Lucifer, he-“ He kneeled down, carefully holding a glistening white, downy feather. “So that’s what it takes,” he said to himself rather than his captive audience.

“What?”

“I always knew Lucifer would be unable to entirely abandon his domain, but he deserved a reprieve from Hell. A vacation, he calls it.” He smiled sadly. “He’s done it for so incredibly long, all by himself without our support. He was just tired. He may have Fallen, but he’ll always be an angel: there but for the Grace of God. In order to be truly free, he left his post and cut off his wings so that he could not return. In order to protect the home he made here, he accepted his post once again. With that, his wings returned.”

The feather in his hand still glowed as bright as the sun and as white as starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/hallucinogens  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0yRsJ_hqMM (I did not entirely make up the workout room inside the precinct part of this story ;) )
> 
>  
> 
> Next up: Family reunion at Lux. And you thought your family reunions were tough.


	21. All He Has Ever Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has quite the family reunion at Lux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Showdown time :)
> 
> I apologize for not replying to all comments yet (though I thank Christyflare for basically giving a very similar answer to what mine will be), but I figured you wanted to read the next chapter rather than my comments.
> 
> Alright, this is an incredibly long one, but it's the showdown. All that remains is an epilogue.
> 
> Warning: Lucifer uses an anti-LGBT slur; not because he believes it, but because his brother does.

Lucifer landed on the balcony of his apartment taking the emergency staircase in order to reach the club as quickly as possible without having his elevator destroyed by trigger-happy, homophobic morons (assuming that did not already happen). He would send the foreman, who had convinced him that the stairs were a necessary fire safety measure and therefore could not be sealed shut, an additional check after this was over.

He arrived just in time to grimace with sympathy when Mazikeen was thrown over the counter.

Klorel was tall with light-brown, long, curly hair, and he was built like a tank, clearly no longer the lanky, scared boy in his late teens Lucifer remembered. Angel bodies could change their appearance… to a point, though it took ages to build up muscles if you wanted them. Lucifer never even tried, because first, he preferred his lean figure, thank you very much, second, because it was useless. Muscles did not increase his power or strength, and third, because it would take more than a couple of millenia to do so.

Klorel had obviously done this to impress humans. He looked like a beach boy who spent more time in the gym than the beach, though with the white robes he was wearing, he was trying to emulate someone else entirely: The only difference in appearance between Klorel and Heaven’s Second Son, apart from general facial features, was that Michael’s hair was blond and his eyes were sapphire blue, not gray.

 “You can’t win against me, little demon. I am Klorel, the-“

“Angel of Clarity, yada yada yada, trained by Uriel, the Archangel of Patterns himself, trained by Michael, Master of Swords and Lord of the Silver City,” Mazikeen was spitting out blood, her hands holding onto her knives. “Change your tune, pretty boy. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not going to let you destroy this place.”

“You don’t have that much of a choice, little demon. Surrender and I… will make it quick. You’ve already been sentenced to death.”

Mazikeen was up again, her face neutral and cold. Lucifer decided that this was the perfect time to interfere, “Whoa!” he exclaimed.“Hold your horses, baby brother. What has she done to deserve a death sentence?”

He ignored Mazikeen’s impatient ‘About time!’

“She’s a demon,” hissed Klorel.

“And as such has served in my realm for the entirety of her existence and has never strayed once. She’s been freed of her oath and can now choose her path that may or may not end in punishment depending on the choices she makes, but she has done nothing to deserve the end of her existence. Why do you think Amenadiel hasn’t vanquished her yet?”

“Quiet!” Klorel hissed as he whirled around to face Lucifer. His brown wings were laced with the occasional reddish colored feathers that made the devil want to call him ‘robin’, but he doubted that was the way to go. “You! I’ve been waiting to face you, Adversary, you Wolf in Sheep’s clothing, you demon…“

“Are you being serious? I mean, I understand if a horny priest gets his facts wrong, but you’re an angel, baby brother, and so am I.” His wings were hidden, mostly because they were a hindrance when it came to indoor fighting, and he did not want to damage the interior of his club any further. “This is Mazikeen, demon, foremost fighter of the Lilim,” he first pointed to her then himself, “Me, Lucifer, the Lightbringer, God’s Poison, the fourth _angel_. Unbelievable! They don’t teach the little ones anything anymore, do they?” He was genuinely getting annoyed. How many times had he been forced to make his status as an angel known these past few days?

“You’re lying!”

“ _I do not lie!”_ Lucifer roared and his eyes flashed red. The few humans that had come here to harm his patrons and still held some semblance of consciousness started to tremble in fear. “Mazikeen, make sure none of these false believers leave.”

Mazikeen smiled dangerously while cracking her knuckles generously.

“Without breaking or amputating or mutliating their legs or other essential parts of their locomotor system,” he continued.

Disappointed, she lowered her hands.

“Now,” he faced Klorel again, “where were we? I am your brother. I was once called Samael, but that name is long dead and gone. Lucifer was the name given to me after the creation of the stars upon return to the Silver City many, many years before you were born.”

“No, you’re not my brother!” denied the other angel sharply. “You lie! You’re a demon wearing my brother’s skin.”

Lucifer could only stare, “I’m the same I’ve ever been, the same soul that helped you all these years ago in Gomorrah.”

This time, Klorel appeared to be confused, “What foolish lie is this? Mother saved me in Gomorrah, and she let the sky burn for what they did to me.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” interjected Lucifer, utterly lost, but Klorel did not seem to hear him and continued, “And she told me. When Father proved once again that he loved these insects,” he spat the word, eyes on the unconscious bodies of his own followers, “more than he loved us, and he wanted to punish me for giving them their due, Mother told me that I shouldn’t go to you for help, because you were no longer our brother but a demon, prowling about in your kingdom of ash and Hellfire. You said it yourself: Samael is long dead and gone, and all that was good and righteous about you, disappeared the moment you Fell.”

Lucifer flinched. The accusation hurt. Worse even, he could hear her voice, cruelly laying out her truth to an impressionable young angel eager to serve her. He wondered if that was what she truly believed, or if this was just another pawn in her eternal chess game with Dad. Had she truly thought so lowly of him? But then he had left her to rot in her cell for millenia, so her opinion of Lucifer was well founded.

Refusing to let his mother get to him without even standing in the same room, he straightened up, “This isn’t about Mum or her worldview. Tell me, what have you done?”

“I’m not talking to you, false angel. Prepare to lose!”

The attack was swift, but Lucifer was ready and blocked his brother’s blows with ease; his counter flung the younger angel back several feet. He crashed against the wall, but was up again within seconds.

“Michael has taught me how to defeat you; Uriel told me just how predictable you were,” muttered the tall, blond figure angrily. “I have a clear path to victory.”

“You see there’s a difference between me fighting Michael, or letting my kid brother Uriel beat me in a fight, and me fighting you,” chuckled Lucifer mirthfully.

“What is that?” asked Klorel impatiently.

“Michael was acting under Dad’s orders, so I couldn’t win that fight. Uriel, well, he does recognize patterns quickly, but mostly it’s just that beating the shit out of my baby brother isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“What makes you think you can beat me?” Without waiting for Lucifer’s answer, Klorel attacked, but again, Lucifer blocked him effortlessly.

“Because,” he replied slapping away another fist, “you’ve sinned.” With his open hand, he slammed into his younger brother’s chest; Klorel lost his footing and crumbled. “Tell me, _what have you done_?”

He was the Lord of Hell. Drawing out desire was of no value in the kingdom of guilt and despair. Drawing out confessions of their wrongdoings was what he did in order to provide them with the punishment they deserved. Klorel fought the pull, but, inevitably, he could not resist.

“Nothing,” gasped the other angel. “Nothing they did not deserve. These perverts, these dominating cruel creatures that fancy children, I hate them. I hate all of them. Thankfully, humans may be primitive, but they have sense, so I never had to do much, just whisper in their ears sometimes, encouraging them to do what Father should have done and smite all that have these depraved, lustful thoughts. Mother was right, they’re nothing but puppets, and I can pull the strings however I wish.”

“Have you killed any of them?” Lucifer asked, clenching his jaw.

“No, but I had my revenge. I made sure they would be known, made sure to expose their perversions, made sure they would rot in prisons or die by the hands of the less depraved human insects.”

There was so much hatred in his eyes, Lucifer felt ill. Unfortunately, it did not even make the list of the worst confessions he had been forced to listen to. All in all, his brother’s crimes were mediocre at best, and yet, bad enough.

“Why attack these five cities?”

“Because humans have started to _accept_ the perverts, to have celebrations in their _honor_ ,” hissed Klorel. “Perhaps if five cities burn, people will know that God does not-“

“-love fags?” continued Lucifer coldly. It felt good to feel anger without pain, without reserve, without fear that it would all blow up in his face. “Oh, but he does. They’re not the ones sinning, baby brother. It’s you.” He shook his head regretfully. “And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to save you in time and that I couldn’t keep the monsters away from you. I agree with you that the ones who hurt you were vermin and I punished them for what they did. What you’ve done since isn’t just, however. What you fail to take into account is consent and the ability to give consent. If two parties want the same thing, and neither is groomed or coerced into consenting, and neither party has power over the other, it’s their right to do so. Their absolute, _God-given_ right. Your actions were unjust, and you must be punished for that.”

“No!” screamed Klorel. He attacked yet again, but did not get far before he crashed against another wall wall. “I’m the Dagger of the Goddess, the plague that reaps the sinful souls. You have no right-“

_“_ I have  _every_ right!” growled Lucifer coldly. “You, the plague? Disease takes the young, the old, the frail and the sick. The plague isn’t just. Disease isn’t right. It is vengeful and merciless and only causes sorrow. The Goddess’ plague… I’m God’s Poison, you little fool.” Klorel looked fearful for the first time, and he tried to flee, but Lucifer was faster. The archangel’s eyes were a smoldering red, and he was towering over his brother, “I’m God’s judge, jury and executioner. I’m his Punisher, and you _will hear my sentence.”_

Like all others before him, Klorel was as still as a statue, his eyes wide with fear.

“Klorel, for your crimes against humanity, I banish you forever from the Earthly plane. Hell’s gates shall never open for you. You are banished to the Silver City for all of eternity, but without the luxuries you are used to. The souls whose lives you stole so casually shall be your jury. They may choose to forgive you, and you shall retain your powers… or not. Your fate is in their hands, baby brother. Let’s hope these souls are not as _depraved_ as you think they are. You shall _never_ hurt another soul, or Azrael’s blade will find you.”

“No,” screeched Klorel. “No, brother, please!” True fear glittered in Klorel’s gray eyes. “Don’t let them hurt me.”

Lucifer said nothing. No soul in Heaven would hurt Klorel the way he feared. He knew that. Moreover, if one of them _should_ have nefarious intentions and act on them, well… There was always space in Hell. Klorel was safe; he was not trapped in a room full of vengeful souls, a sentence that could have awaited him in Hell. Instead, he would be surrounded by siblings that could step in if things went out of hand. He thought of poor Sean and the devil’s chest tightened painfully, the memory of that gentle man a welcome but excrutiating one. “Perhaps you’ll learn something about mercy, compassion and benevolence, or you’ll learn just how wrathful humans can be.”

He folded his hands and prayed to Amenadiel.

“ _You’ve heard. Get him!”_

Celestial rulings always resonated. Every angel had known when he Fell. Every angel had known when Mother was banished. Every angel knew what happened tonight.

Amenadiel appeared and froze when he saw Lucifer. The wings may not be apparent to the naked eye even to most of his siblings, but the Angel of Time was no ordinary angel, “You-“

“Give Michael my best and tell him that he can play jailor for a while. I’ll ask him in a couple of millennia just how much of a _gift_ it was.”

Amenadiel did not move at first, but hearing Klorel’s fearful cries forced him into action. He grabbed their younger brother’s shoulders.

“ _Adieu_ , baby brother,” said Lucifer. They would never see each other again. He had banished him from every realm he had access to. “I hope one day you realize what you’ve done, and I hope you will face the weight of all the lives your actions have cost and that the extent of their compassion will crush you.”

And that one day, if he were lucky, he would be able to forgive himself.

But he was the Punisher. That last bit was not for him to say. There were enough siblings out there to make him feel better. Amenadiel worldlessly took their younger brother with him.

Now it was time to punish a more human breed of criminals.

“Alas, you wanted the cities to be punished as were Sodom and Gomorrah,” whispered Lucifer quietly. Many of the LA disciples – did that make them _his_ followers? They acted in the name of Samael, didn’t they? – had regained some level of consciousness. They all looked terrified, obviously having witnessed everything and looking about half a shock away from spending their lives in a nerve clinic. “Let me show you what that feels like.”

He lifted his arms, focused on all the souls he knew were his brother’s most loyal followers (their own fault really… they should have never prayed to him). Once he had all eighty-five souls pinned, he closed his fists. Hellfire engulfed them and he heard them all screech in pain and utter terror.

They deserved it. They were still here on Earth, but they deserved the punishment of Hell. Well, he would give it to them; Hellfire left no scars, not unless he willed it so. It was tempting… tempting to use burning fire to punish all the deaths they had caused.

Sean Peters.

John Richards.

Samuel Porter.

Paul Morgan.

Clara Read.

Thomas Read.

All gone.

For no other reason than religious frevor and hatred for those not quite like them.

He was just about to finalize his punishment when he suddenly heard his brother shout.

“Brother, no!”

Lucifer looked up and saw the two detectives and Raphael standing right by the entrance. Both the Detective and Detective Daniel looked petrified, and Lucifer could not blame them. He hated to see the fear in their eyes, though. He never wanted them to be afraid of him. Thankfully, his skin still looked human and his wings were not out (both out of convenience and because he did not want to scare the living daylights out of Patrick and the rest of the staff, should they decide to leave the safety of their hiding place), but he knew his eyes were more akin to Hellfire than their usual dark shade. He was also very aware of the reddish glow that encompassed him reminiscent of both the Hellfire he wielded and a red giant that would soon reach the end of its lifespan. It made him feel very, very old.

Not far behind them were Dr. Linda, Ella and Father Frank, all worried, freaked out and notably frightened, but then who would not be?

“Brother, please, have mercy!”

This was the last straw and Lucifer opened his mouth to scream.

“WHY? They’ve done nothing to deserve mercy. They showed none. I can see it in their souls, brother. They are tagged, and the tag cannot be undone, it’s permanent. They’re _mine_. I’ve spent eons in hell, ruled it as a torturer, yet not once did any of you come by to tell me otherwise. Yet all these years later, countless souls later, you still believe that I can be _kind_ and _good_ and  _merciful_. I am the Punisher, the Closer, that’s all I’ve ever been.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, silencing the screeches of the damned souls with a short command for _silence_. “Mercy is not in my nature, brother. In fact, it is my opposite.”

“That isn’t true,” Raphael refuted. “None of us could have done what you were tasked with yet remain as bright as you are.”

Hellfire burned in Lucifer’s eyes. He was shrouded in darkness as the light retreated from his presence.

“ _Bright_?” he growled. “Will you join Amenadiel’s choir next? That I am Dad’s favorite and that Hell was his gift for me?”

“You are the Light, Brother. That did not change when you were forced to rule Hell. It was not a gift, but you were the only one to bear it without breaking,” answered his brother.

“Is that what you think?” whispered Lucifer before he howled like a wounded animal. “It’s wonderful, really, the faith you have in me, but you are _wrong_ … Look at them,” he gestured at Father Frank, Ms. Lopez, Dr. Linda and the detectives. They all looked terrified, and he did not even wear his devil-face.

It was not necessary.

Lucifer knew exactly what he looked like.

He was the Punisher, more frightening than Wrath and far less short-lived than Heaven’s justice, which lasted but for a moment. He was permanent, ever-lasting and forgiveness was not his domain.

“They know _what_ I am. Broken, merciless, Fallen. Why fight it?”

“Lucifer,” Father Frank’s hands assumed a defensive, calming gesture. “I’m not going to deny that I’m afraid.” He better not be for he was trembling slightly. “You’re-“ he halted, “as frightening now as your music is soothing. I’m not going to tell you what to do. It’s your right. But, Lucifer, it’s not _all_ that you are. You’re my friend. You’re the owner of this club and your staff loves you to the point at least four of them warned me independently from each other not to exploit your generosity.”

He fell silent, and it was Ms. Lopez who continued, “You’re also this incredible dork I’ve only caught glimpses of these past few days. You may think you’re very charming and suave, but you’re just using that to hide just how sweet and dorky you are beneath it all.”

“You’re this incredibly powerful being that I can’t even _begin_ to comprehend,” Dr. Linda continued. Her eyes were wide and she was barely keeping it together, “yet you visit me every week attempting to obtain a better understanding of your feelings and trying to find your place in this very human world. That’s who you are, Lucifer. You’re not just the Punisher or the Light. Your domains are not all that you are. You’re so much more than that.”

The Detective, who was still reeling from the shock of today’s revelations, nodded, “You care. Do you want to know why I partnered up with you? Not just because you could coax people into confession but because it genuinely disturbs you to witness what people are willing to do in the name of greed. Because you seek justice for the victims, even if you ignore proper police procedure for it. Even though you’re the devil, you still do your best to follow our laws.” She paused before continuing with a fond smile. “Unless you think they’re too silly to be taken seriously.”

“Because Trixie thinks you’re amazing,” Detective Dan continued haltingly. His eyes were wide and he was about two seconds away from losing his fight against a panic attack, but he still tried to talk Lucifer down, and that, if nothing else, calmed him effectively. “She’s seen you how many times? But she’s convinced you’re her friend. She told me you approved of how she stood up to her bully, and that you ‘ _made sure the girl felt bad’_. My daughter has a sign on the door of her bedroom that says ‘No Boys allowed except for Lucifer and Dad.’ You really want to disappoint her? Because I might just shoot you if you did.”

It was Frank who put the final nail in the coffin, “What about Dr. Laura and Simon, Lucifer? What about Dr. Sears? Amanda? They know you have mercy; they know you’re kind. They trust you, too, just like we all trust you not to hurt us. We have faith in you.”

For a second, he let the Hellfire flare before he snuffed it out. He looked at the faces that looked mad with fear. He made sure his voice carried, not just to the culprits cowering before him, “One day, you’ll enter my domain and you should tremble in fear of what I will do to you once you are,” whispered the devil. “For now, though… Detectives, would you like to do the honor?” The two homicide detectives sprung into action and they called in for backup, or rather, told backup to finally enter the premises.

He felt drained and ready to sleep for a day. He still went to the staffroom and told Patrick, Carol, Tamra and Damian that they were safe now.

“Are you hurt, boss?” asked Patrick on their way out.

Lucifer was suddenly hit with the enormity of what he had done.

In order to protect his club and to give Klorel the punishment he deserved, Lucifer had taken up the mantle of Lord of Hell yet again, including but not limited to the wings, a mere symbol of the promise he had given his father. His vacation was coming to an abrupt end. Hell was waiting.

“No, I’m unharmed, Patrick, thank you. You’re safe now.” He clasped his shoulder, and led them outside where a couple of LAPD officers and EMTs were waiting for them.

Shortly after, the police swarmed the club, securing the crime scene, taking pictures and statements. Many of his patrons and the entirety of tonight’s staff were waiting for their turn to testify together with a swarm of reporters eager to report on current events.

Numbly, Lucifer watched from his favorite spot at the bar. Mazikeen was kind enough to pour him a drink. She had never loved this club the way he had, but her expression was solemn.

“If you want to come with me, just say the word,” said he.

She was silent for a long moment, “Do you want me to?”

He almost told her that she could do whatever she pleased, but then remembered that this may not be what she needed to hear, “Mazikeen, I always want you by my side, but this isn’t about what I desire.”

She chuckled, “It never is.” Then she spoke up again, “I think I’ll…stay here. I I’ve had it with celestial powerplays, fire and brimstone for now.”

Lucifer chuckled, both amused and tiredly, “Can’t say I blame you.”

The Detective and Detective Daniel came up to them, “So, we’re done here. There’s still a ton of investigation to be done, but they’ve all confessed to their crimes. Most are currently under acute psychiatric care, but they’re singing like birds. We have enough evidence now to make several dozen arrests and put the rest on a watchlist. We received very similar news from the other cities. I-“ Detective Daniel halted. “Thank you.”

Lucifer knew better than to reach out, “No, detectives, thank _you_ for bringing me back from the edge.”

The Detective nodded, then she said awkwardly, “So, we-should get back home. You’re not leaving tonight, are you?”

Lucifer tilted his head in confusion. He had not mentioned anything about returning to Hell to them, had he?

“Raphael said something,” she continued, “and I assumed…”

“I’ll have to return soon, but there are still a few things to take care of. I have an emergency plan in place so that all my affairs are taken care of should I disappear from one day to the next. You know, just in case Dad was getting impatient,” he grinned, “but that is not the case here. I have enough time to make sure everything is in order before I leave. I’ll let you know.”

The homicide detectives nodded absentmindly.

“Listen, Lucifer,” began the Detective, “I-I’m not sure how to handle all this, and I’m-y-I’m more than a little freaked out here, but… you once said that you’re not evil, that you punish evil, and I’m sorry if any of my accusations today hurt you-if it contributed to you feeling like a monster. You made sure the bad guys are being punished tonight. Even before, you helped so much in this investigation, long before it really affected you personally. Thank you! We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Lucifer could not help the gentle smile that stole itself onto his lips.

“Oh Detective,” he teased her, smile transforming to pure mischief, “if I didn’t know better I would say you enjoy working with me. Has my charm finally worked on you?” Thankfully, she understood where he was going with this and rolled her eyes in reponse, “Nope, still nothing.”

“Pity.” His grin softened into a smile and he said, “Good night, Detective. Oh, and Detective Daniel?”

“Yes?” asked the other man nervously.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he apologized making a vague gesture at himself. He knew what he looked like; he never wished to spring his scourged face on an innocent. It was hideous.

“It’s fine,” said the homicide detective quickly. “Not your fault. I-what I witnessed back at the precinct was actually less terrifying than what you did here, and it strangely enough put things into perspective for me… It wasn’t the fa-not _just_ the face, it was that unexpected transformation from hale to scarred, which labeled you as ‘ _Not human’_ in the primal part of my brain, and I panicked. It kind shattered what I thought I knew,” he laughed nervously. “You’re not broken. You were just hurt and now you feel like you need to hide. You don’t have to, not around us. Just, warn me next time, okay?”

Speechless, Lucifer stared at these two brave detectives and his respect and awe for humans increased once more. They bid Maze and Lucifer good night, and left. Too flabbergasted to give a proper response, Lucifer just nodded.

Another officer approached him to tell them that all evidence was bagged and tagged, and that everyone had been interviewed, so they were free to go about the place as they pleased. Not too long after, Marcus and Carl approached them.

“Patrick said you did a great job,” said Lucifer, pouring them both a drink. “Thank you.”

Mazikeen’s face betrayed nothing, but she said, “Yeah. Not bad.”

“That’s a demon’s highest accolade, gentlemen,” grinned Lucifer. “Congratulations! What does it look like out there?”

“Chaotic. We’ll stay here until things have died down a little. The rest of security is staying, too. I called in everyone else, hope that’s okay.”

“Thank you,” was all Lucifer said. “The club will remain closed for the next two days for sure, but I need to assess the damage first to know what to do afterwards. You’re all on paid leave until then.”

“Okay, boss, I’ll spread the word.”

With that, the two men left. What amused Lucifer was that they both knew Maze well enough not to ask her how she was doing. She was one furious demon, and even though she did not say anything, they knew better than to pry.

“How bad is it?” he asked her once all humans were out of earshot.

“I hate angels!” she hissed. “Fucking cowards, the whole lot of them. They use their powers against you instead of fighting you head-on.”

“First, I am _hurt,_ Mazikeen. Do you truly think so lowly of me?” he laughed at her muttered ‘you don’t count’ and continued, “Second, angels know better than to fight Hell’s foremost warrior head-on. They’ll always use their powers against you. It’s the only way they can win. And Heaven must always win, or they’ve failed.”

“I hate your family,” was all she said in return.

Lucifer’s thoughts instantly went to the family member who was currently helping the EMTs outside before they further drifted to his sisters followed by Amenadiel, Michael, Uriel and finally landed on Klorel. His heart hurt.

“I wish I could say the same.”

She patted his shoulder, and poured him another drink.

Dr. Linda, Ella and Father Frank were the next to come up to them.

“Why don’t you put it on a billboard, so that everybody knows?” muttered Mazikeen, more out of exasperation and crankiness over having lost a fight against an angel than out of genuine annoyance.

“I could probably do that and people would still think I was being delusional,” was all he said to that.

Despite her mood, she apparently thought that, keeping it together upon seeing the devil at his least merciful, was deserving of drinks, because she made drinks for the ladies and poured Father Frank a glass of whisky.

Linda took the glass and emptied with remarkable speed. Lucifer could see Maze eyeing his therapist’s technique hungrily.

“Where were you three?” asked Lucifer. He had not seen them for a while.

“Father Frank and I were with your staff; some of them were quite frightened, so we decided to offer some support,” answered Ms. Lopez as if this level of kindness was a matter of course rather than exceptional goodness on their part.

“How come you two are here anyway? I thought you wanted to talk.” But not before giving him the assurance of their continued fondness of him, which had been the only thing that had kept him on the right side of sanity earlier at the precinct, apart, of course, from his brother’s initial intervention that kept things from falling apart and the rock that was Dr. Linda.

“We wanted to go to that bar Father Frank mentioned, but then we heard that Lux had just been attacked, and we took the first cab to get here.” He opened his mouth to assure her that he would cover for the expenses of the ride, but her hand on his mouth silenced him effectively. “You, shush!”

Lucifer, just because the last person to silence him in that manner had been Azrael, reflexively licked the inside of her palm.

“Bleh, Lucifer!” she whined, and proceeded to wipe off her hand on his expensive suit, which caused him to protest loudly.

“Children, stop teasing each other!” laughed Dr. Linda, which had Ms. Lopez go, “But, Mom, he started it!”

“ _I_ started it? I beg your pard-“

An all too familiar, metallic sound right next to his carotid artery silenced him instantly.

“Stop it, or Aunty Maze will eviscerate you,” she growled menacingly, but her eyes glittered with amusement. It seemed as if he was not the only one who needed the levity.

Ms. Lopez’ eyes were wide, “Father Frank, you did not exaggerate. She really is scary as as hell.” She started laughing, just on this side of hysteria. “Get it? Hell?”

“Think of it that way,” Maze countered with a devilish grin. “Without me, Hell wouldn’t be this scary.”

That shut everyone up and it gave Lucifer the chance to address Dr. Linda about her whereabouts earlier. There was no money in the world that could pay for her bout of steadiness and strength even in the face of her own world falling to pieces.

“There were seventeen men suffering from different stages of acute panic and psychosomatic pain, and I could not very well explain to the EMTs on scene that it is probably residual pain from being cast into what I’ve concluded had to be some form of purgatory. Since I was the only psychiatrist on scene, at least at first, I had to do some emergency counseling,” she answered steadily, downing yet another drink.

“I’m sorry.” That seemed like the appropriate response to that revelation.

“Oh,” she waved his apology away impatiently. “You did your job and I did mine. Although I personally believe you had the better deal in this. Do you have any idea how hard it is to remain somewhat professional when all you want is to slap your temporary patient silly for destroying their own lives and that of many innocent people over their idiotic worldview?”

“At least their _current_ view is based on some sort of reality. Just imagine how annoying it would be if they only talked in metaphors,” the devil grinned. In response, she hit his shoulder.

“Not funny, Lucifer.”

Mazikeen’s smiled appreciatively, “I like her.”

“Find your own therapist, Maze,” he retorted.

The silence that followed was companionable, and no matter how tired he was, he really did not want the night to end.

They heard the entrance door open yet again causing Maze to sigh, “What now?”

It was Patrick, but behind him were several members of his staff, some still wore their uniforms, others were in their regular clothes, and some, he realized, must have driven here because they did not have their shift tonight.

 “We were just wondering,” began Patrick, “whether you wanted us to help you clean up the place or whether we should come back tomorrow?”

“You should get some sleep, but… thank you,” was all he managed to say before his throat decided to close up. Seeing so many of them here, so genuinely concerned for the club and his home, was what made today’s choices worth their heavy price.

The brief arrival and departure of the staff broke up their little party. Ms. Lopez helped Linda stumble out of the club; like the gentleman he was, Father Frank accompanied them, and about five minutes after they left, Mazikeen decided to follow them just to make sure they were safe.

The first thing he did upon arriving in his apartment, was grab another glass of whisky, which he took outside. The balcony was one his favorite spots in the entire building. It let him observe the city from way up high. Before the return of his wings, it had been the only thing that allowed him some form of birdview. He took a deep breath.

The sudden rustle of familiar feathers was not a surprise.

“I was wondering where you ended up,” he said to Raphael.

“Just making sure everyone was taken care of,” was the healer’s reply. Lucifer took a sip, or he wanted to, but the swig did not end up on his tongue and he growned in response.

“My balcony is not an angel landing pad,” he protested.

“Why is it big enough for our wings then?” asked Amenadiel.

“Because six years without them does not hold a candle to a lifetime with them. When I design rooms, they’re always big enough for my wings,” replied Lucifer coolly. “What do you want?”

“Raphael, we need you,” Amenadiel addressed their younger brother. “There’s been quite a bit of commotion; I’ve been trying to keep order, but Michael has not responded well to an angel he doesn’t know, and he does not appreciate your ruling, Lucifer,” Amenadiel said reproachfully.

“Oh, poor Michael, forced to babysit a wayward soul. What will become of him?” the Lord of Hell retorted dryly.

“Michael has a lot of responsibilities since Father-well, you know,” if this was an attempt to renew their earlier fight, Lucifer was too tired to fall for it. He would not be the one to start a war between Heaven and Hell. As strong as his demons were, Lucifer knew the only outcome of such a fight: Hell would lose, Earth would probably be crushed in the process and Heaven would be the undisputed victor. His rebellion had been doomed to fail, but he had been too young to know better. He would not fall for it again.

“Goodbye, Raphael, feel free to drop in if you visit Earth before I leave,” said he gently to his younger brother. They hugged.

“We’ll be seeing each other more in the future,” promised Raphael before he followed the Angel of Time to Heaven.

Lucifer sighed and lowered his head.

“Happy?” he asked into the void. Regardless of what Amenadiel had claimed, he knew Dad was listening. “You won. My second rebellion was foiled and you didn’t even have to lift a finger.”

He strolled back inside, sat down by the piano, opened it and started to play.

_The sun goes down_   
_As the city lights_   
_Pave their way through the darkest night_   
_Raindrops fall_   
_As an old man cries_   
_Never thought to ever think twice_

_Of all he had_   
_Of all he lost_   
_A selfish life_   
_I guess comes with the cost_

_Hey_   
_Remember me_   
_I remember you walking away_

He got lost in the sound of the music, and his anger transformed into sorrow, and sorrow transformed into nostalgia. Without realizing it at first, the music shifted into another song entirely.

_My child arrived just the other day;_   
_Came to the world in the usually way_   
_But there were planes to catch and bills to pay._   
_He learned to walk while I was away._   
_He was talkin' 'fore I knew it._   
_And as he grew he said,_   
_"I'm gonna be like you, Dad._   
_You know I'm gonna be like you."_

_And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,_   
_Little boy blue and the man on the moon._   
_"When you comin' home ?"_   
_"Son, I don't know when._   
_We'll get together then._   
_You know we'll have a good time then."_

When _Cat’s in the Cradle_ ended, he let the music and nostalgia take him away from his family to the home he had made for himself. He would miss playing for his patrons, and before he knew it, he played a classic so incredibly cliché he had never actually played it down at Lux.

_It's nine o'clock on a Saturday_   
_The regular crowd shuffles in_   
_There's an old man sitting next to me_   
_Makin' love to his tonic and gin_

_He says, "Son, can you play me a memory_   
_I'm not really sure how it goes_   
_But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete_   
_When I wore a younger man's clothes"_

At the end of _Piano Man_ , he finally felt like he could breathe again, and that was, of course, the moment his world shattered.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a figure out on the balcony. He knew who it was. He could disguise himself all he wanted. The light was so bright Lucifer wondered how anyone could ever mistake him for someone else.

For tonight, his father had taken the form of an old man, his features resembling Raphael so much they could have passed as father and son. Lucifer scoffed at the thought.

“You’re visting the wrong son,” said he, too tired to fight. “The Silver City’s eagerly waiting for your return.”

“I know,” Dad’s voice was low and soft, and it sounded like Music itself. Lucifer hated the fact that it still had the ability to calm him down. Gritting his teeth, he walked onto the balcony, and put his forearms on the railing, standing three feet apart from his father. He would not bow. He would not break and he refused to show that he was intimidated.

“Oh, Son,” said his father in response, and even though Lucifer refused to look at him, he could feel the celestial’s fond smile, “Ever so proud.”

The Lord of Hell sneered, “A family trait, I assure you.”

His genuine laughter sounded like a symphony, and the devil could hardly bear it.

“If that is not the truth, I wouldn’t know what is. Lucifer-“

The former Lord of Hell twisted to look him in the eye, but that turned out to be an arrogant, foolish mistake, because as soon as he faced him head-on, the fear slammed into him like a sledgehammer.

What would he do?

Even though Lucifer had accepted his post yet again, he was still here, and Dad could still punish him for leaving it in the first place. He had the power to send him to a cell so deeply buried his demons would not find him for eons. He could utterly destroy him. If there was one thing that Lucifer had never had any reason to doubt, it was his father’s hatred of him.

Even without saying anything, the omniscient bastard reacted to his thoughts instantly, “Oh no, Son, no. I’ve never hated you. I love all of you, but I am sorry for reacting so savagely during our fight.”

Lucifer slammed the powerful entity against the wall, though throwing him off the balcony would be so much more satisfying, but he knew the attempt would be futile. To his surprise, Dad did not resist.

“Why did you do it? WHY? What did I do to deserve this? I haven’t killed anyone. I haven’t hurt anyone! All I asked for was the opportunity to make my own choices, be myself. I gave you _everything_ I was, so WHY?”

“Because, Lucifer,” answered his father, “you are the only one I trusted to be fair, to treat your prisoners with dignity even when they did not deserve it. Because you are the Light, the Morningstar, the light in the dark when all other lights have already snuffed out.”

Momentarily speechless, the owner of Lux stared at the most powerful being in the universe. Finally, he retorted grumpily, “No need to butcher the Lord of the Rings, Father.”

“For what it’s worth, I am truly sorry to have caused you that much pain. You have every right to despise me.”

Oddly wrong-footed in the face of an apology years too late yet so desperately desired, he hissed angrily, “Well, if there is one thing I learned from my brothers is that you do nothing without reason. I’m sure you saw a bright future for me when you cast me into Hell.”

“No, because I cannot see your future even now as you stand before me. I never could. You are my son and as unpredictable as chaos itself. You and Raguel, I have never been able to see either of your futures for _your_ life is change and hers is chaos, and I have loved you all the more for it. The problem, of course, is that I was helpless when it came to dealing with your rebellion. In my anger, I forgot that you were still made of flesh and blood.”

“It wasn’t so much the Fall, Dad, though it scarred me beyond recognition,” hissed Lucifer showing his father the marred skin of his body. “It was the loneliness, the absolute silence for eons. It was you letting them think I was evil… I’m not talking about the humans, no. You let my siblings believe that I was a monster. It was you calling me a _liar,_ ” he spit the word out. “That’s the reason I’m furious with you.”

“Not hate me?” His father had the nerve to smile softly at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, _Dad_ ,” he growled. “I-.” The words stuck in his throat. No matter how much he wanted to proclaim his hatred to the bastard’s face, it did not make it any truer. “There is one thing I don’t understand. Why didn’t you talk to them? Why didn’t you explain it to them? More importantly, why are you MIA from Heaven, but you still hang around to communicate via vague dreams that could be interpreted either way. Is this your idea of fun?” he barely kept himself from shouting at his father. “You must be laughing your head off, watching them desperately trying to fulfill your wishes not knowing these entail. Why the half-measure? Either stay or leave, don’t give u-them hope that you’re still around.”

The father of creation tilted his head, which belied the sheer power he contained.

“Is it so hard to believe that I would miss my children?” he asked, and Lucifer wanted to punch him.

“Well, in that case it would help if you didn’t abandon them!” the club owner growled.

“I wanted to give you the chance to be yourself,” replied his father, “to make your own choices, just like you desired. And I wanted to give this same chance to the rest of my children, but that meant that I would have to leave all of you because my words have such a terrible weight and the only one to ever question my wishes was you.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, “Do me a favor for once in my life: never _ever_ tell Amenadiel that, or he will hate me even more.”

“Your brother doesn’t hate you,” contradicted the supposedly omniscient entity.

“Let’s agree to disagree. But enough of that pathetic excuse of a reason you give for abandoning your children and let’s discuss the matter at hand. You shunned me for questioning you, but you let Klorel roam free. He’s responsible for the deaths of dozens of people… Why didn’t you interfere? Why did you let Mum…”

“She’s the Mother of Angels, Lucifer. Her sway over you has always been more powerful than mine,” replied his father ruefully. “I’ve never been able to stop her.”

“What’re you talking about? Raphael could reverse the forced memory loss; _I_ could.”

“You really don’t see it?” Dad sounded so _surprised_. “Think of it as the human game ‘ _rock, paper, scissors_ ’. The rock can be ensnared, blinded and fooled by paper. The scissors can cut through the paper thus freeing the rock, and… the rock may destroy the scissors.” his father lowered his head sadly. “When she hurt all but you by taking their memories… It put an unimaginable strain on her, and it gave me the opportunity to banish her for her crimes against her children. I sent her to you, because she has no power in Hell.”

Lucifer thought of Maze’ fear of his now suppposedly powerless mother, and shook his head, “There is a fallacy to your metaphor, Dad. In this celestial game of _rock, paper, scissors,_ the rock is a boulder, the paper a mantle of leather and the scissors are these cheap plastic ones that don’t really cut through anything.”

He remembered his parents fighting, sometimes he recognized this toxic love in human spouses and it never failed to make him furious. For his father to say that Lucifer and his siblings had any power over either of them was ridiculous.

“Besides,” he continued, “that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have let us know. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have stayed in Heaven after you sent her to me. It doesn’t excuse your failure to be there for us,” said Lucifer coldly.

“No,” sighed Dad sadly. He looked so crestfallen. “No, it doesn’t.”

They were silent for a long time. His father, forever patient, waited for Lucifer to speak first. Inevitably, he did.

“I don’t want to go back.” It was not what he had intended to say, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

“I know.”

“I never want to sit on that throne again,” said Lucifer, this time sounding desperate.

“I know.”

“Don’t make me go back.” He did not care if he was begging. He was so far beyond caring about his dignity.

“Who do you want in your place?” asked his father curiously. Lucifer thought of his siblings, and had no answer. “Hell needs a king,” the celestial continued solemnly, “and I wished it wasn’t one of my children.”

Lucifer closed his eyes in defeat.

“That being said,” his father continued causing Lucifer to turn his head in astonishment, “it doesn’t mean that God cannot occasionally stand in for the Lord of Hell. I’ll be an awful jailer, truly, but I have it from good authority that the devil’s demons know what they’re doing. I cannot uphold order for long, but what is a decade or a century on Earth in our lifetime?”

“What are you saying?” Confused, Lucifer caught his father’s kind gaze.

“The Lord of Hell cannot roam on Earth,” said the celestial further, ignoring his question. “But it wouldn’t be fair to make you human while you find your peace here on Earth. And I believe you’ve dealt with enough injustices over the years.”

“Dad?”

“A hundred years or less starting tonight. The exact day of your return will forever be your choice. I will take over your responsibilities for a few Earth years ranging from a decade to a century for every millennium that passes, your past and future ‘ _weekend_ _trips’_ not included. That’s my offer to you. The devil you shall remain, but you must relinquish your mantle as Lord of Hell whenever you vacation here. Just like the Creator of Stars is too dangerous for this world to handle, so is the Lord of Hell. You must give them up and live as you have these past six years.”

Lucifer leaned against the railing so his legs would not give in. He was allowed to stay, but would not be rendered human as a consequence. All he had to do, was give up the mantle and with that… He would miss his wings, but then he would miss Earth so much more.

“Deal,” whispered Lucifer before he thought about it too much, “under one condition.”

“Of course,” replied his father with a smile.

“Once I reliquinsh the mantle, Hell will quiet down again. You have four human years until someone is needed on that throne. Take that time and go to the Silver City. Talk to them. That’s my condition.”

His father carefully placed a hand between his wing roots, “I would have done that without it being a condition.”

Lucifer shrugged off the hand and put some distance between them, “Just needed to make sure.”

“I might need some help dealing with a realm I may have created but did not form,” said the creator of the universe gently and with a knowing smile.

“You know where to find me,” was all Lucifer replied.

Words were not needed. His father’s Light flared and Lucifer closed his eyes, reliquishing the mantle he had just regained hours before. It did not even feel like a loss, but he did not expect the dizziness over the sudden lack of power.

He stumbled inside to prepare himself a cup of coffee and his father a drink.

By the time he was back on the balcony, he was alone.

“Figures,” muttered, put the cup aside, raised his glass toward the High Heavens and swallowed the burning liquid in one go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The story started with humans, it's only fair if it ends with them, too.
> 
> I'm back at work, so bear with me for a couple of days until I upload the epilogue.
> 
> Music References:  
> \- Lifehouse “Walking Away”  
> \- Ugly Kid Joe “Cat’s in the Cradle”  
> \- Billy Joel “Piano Man”


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan comes to terms with recent revelations. It is a time to say goodbye and time to embrace the new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all,
> 
> That's it!
> 
> Thank you so much for joining me on this crazy little journey. You guys are the best! This is the first multi-chap with over 50'000 words I ever managed to finish, so that really shows just how good you people are at keeping me motivated. Your long reviews were my muse's fuel. Thank you!
> 
> Right now, there is no sequel planned. There might be a related one-shot or two in the future that is related to this story and series, but nothing in the near future. 
> 
> For my future plans in the Lucifer fandom, see notes at the end.

Weeks after his life had taken an unexpected turn into Heaven&Hell Street the homicide detective still occasionally woke up in the middle of the night, laying on his bed drenched in cold sweat with the acute fear of suffocating. He would see this merciless, utterly powerful Punisher that literally threw sinners into Purgatory before his very eyes. Unlike what he had actually witnessed yesterday at Lux, in the dream, Lucifer’s skin would constantly shift from being unblemished to scorched beyond what a human being could possibly survive. Most of the time, Dan could let go off the images, but sometimes he called Frank, or Linda, or Chloe.

Many things had happened in the aftermath of the attack on Lux.

First, the case was far from over, though the devil had cut off the serpent’s head (or had banished it to _Heaven_ of all places), and effectively incapacitated Klorel’s most fervent followers (they all confessed to their crimes; most had ended up in the closed ward of a psychiatric hospital), they still needed to present hard evidence in a somewhat plausible manner without shouting hysterically that ‘ _the devil is real! Heaven and Hell exist! Holy crap, there’s life after death and we’re being judged for our sins!’_ or _‘we found these names because, apparently, angels can hear prayers and since the devil is an angel, he knew where all the cult members were’_.

Lieutenant Monroe was more than pleased that the LAPD was responsible for the apprehension and disbandment of  _Gomorrah’s Fall_. She knew that becoming the first female Chief of Police was only a formality now that her department had thwarted these attacks on the LGBTQ+ community. Said community’s response was strong and the support of all the affected cities was great. They were already planning a big, intercity Gay Pride party that would take place exactly thirty days after the death of the last victims. They would commemorate the dead and then proceed to celebrate life, refusing to back down in the face of adversity.

Apart from the case itself, they all had to deal with their own worlds being turned upside down. Linda had the brilliant idea to form some sort of support group for ‘humans entangled in celestial matters’, which took place weekly and was attended by Frank, Ella, Linda, Chloe and himself. Frank, unsurprisingly, took the whole news with enviable grace, but mostly because he had apparently had his suspicions almost the moment he had met Lucifer, and that he was introduced to this world more gently than they were. Of the ones who had the knowledge sprung onto them, Ella rolled with it best, followed by Linda. It definitely shook Chloe the hardest. While Dan was terrified of what he had seen, Chloe had only believed in cold, hard, evidence-based facts before all this. Now the facts clearly stated that Heaven and Hell were real, and that the devil walked among them.

Only, he was not the devil from the stories, was he? Lucifer Morningstar embraced several deadly sins such as lust (which he embodied absolutely and utterly selflessly focusing on the desires of the other person), gluttony (the devil definitively knew how to savor food, but then were there any cooks in Hell?), wrath (he was literally divine judgment so who could blame him?) and pride (which Frank called the sin of angels). In contrast, disinterest/laziness was not something Dan attributed Lucifer with; he also did not seem to have an above average affection for envy. He despised greed, however, at least from what Chloe had told him. Ironically, the devil also lived almost as many virtues as he embraced sins. He had been described to Dan as a charitable, kind fellow who was diligently striving to offer his staff the best possible work environment. The only virtues he actively rejected were probably chastity and humility. Regardless, it was clear that the devil was not this embodiment of evil that every story in history said he was.

Dan still remembered having to find the courage of meeting the devil for the first time after that eventful Sunday. They had all been meeting in Linda’s office, when Ella spoke up.

_“Really, you guys have to stop fretting. Lucifer’s cool. And he knows so much! Did you know he was friends with Shakespeare? That blew my mind because I was always a bit of a secret anti-Stratfordian, and hearing that he knew him personally was kind of a,” she mimed an explosion over her head accompanied by the appropriate sound, ”you know? He even supported the man’s writing. There’s a personally signed copy in his apartment!”_

_“Really?” asked Linda, very interested in this new piece of information. “Wow!”_

_Linda had impressed Dan with her professionalism. While she was more than willing to talk about her own feelings regarding their ‘the devil is real’ freakout, she absolutely did not divulge any confidential information on her patient, even though they had asked her several times. She had even told off Chloe last week after she persisted in her line of questioning._

_“Wait,” Chloe interjected. “You went to his apartment?”_

_“Of course,” said Ella. “Well, I first went to his club. I mean, when you have an open invitation to one of LA’s most exclusive clubs, you take it, right? Especially after it was closed for a couple of days due to the attack and it’s the reopening party. I was there to talk to Frank for a bit, and then I asked how Lucifer was doing.”_

_“To which I replied that you should ask him yourself,” continued Frank._

_“And I did. He was as nervous as I was facing him again. It was easier to talk to him then,” smiled the forensic scientist. “Wait, you haven’t met him since… he single-handedly stopped an entire cult from committing horrific crimes? Why?”_

That innocent, disbelieving query had been his wake-up call.

He then decided to visit the man…devil… Lucifer the next day at noon. He arrived just in time to participate in a farewell party for Mazikeen (aparently, Smith was not her family name; her full name Mazikeen of the Lilim). The demon (living and breathing demon, _Madre de Dios_ ) was taking a trip around the world because, unlike Lucifer, she had spent far less time exploring it and was trying to find herself on the way. Frank, Ella and Linda were quite happy to see him, and Lucifer appeared to be both delighted yet surprised.

_“Ah, Detective Daniel, come in, come in. We’ve just reached that part of the farewell party where we’re handing out gifts.”_

_The staff gifted her with a smartphone (“Everybody has a smartphone these days, so we thought you should have one, too.”), and they gave Morningstar a Nokia with the cheapest AT &T suscription they could find, so that they could add his personal phone number to her contacts. Ella gave Mazikeen (“It’s Maze, sexy cop”) a book entitled ‘The Ultimate Bucketlist’ and a copy of her own bucket list. _

_“I absolutely insist that you’ll contact me if you intend on ticking off something from my list. I’ll join you.”_

_The answering grin was positively sensual as Maze took in the forensic scientist’s appearance, “Oh, I will.”_

_Frank had updated her smartphone with his entire music collection, which caused Morningstar to walk away from the party abruptly to organize a smartphone for himself and insisting that Frank had to do the same thing for him. The priest flatly refused and told the devil that he could buy the music for himself because artists these days needed it more than ever for people to buy their music. After that interruption, Linda handed over her present, a beautiful notebook in a leather cover that could serve as a diary throughout her travels (“Demons don’t do diaries”). All eyes were suddenly on Dan who stuttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-I’ve no idea what to give you.”_

_Maze just turned to Lucifer, eyes raised expectantly._

_“I’m financing your trip, Maze, what else do you want?” asked Lucifer, eyes glittering with amusement._

_“Oh please, as if you didn’t get me anything,” Maze rolled her eyes, not believing the unconvincing evasion for a second. It looked like the devil was an awful liar. With a grin, Morningstar handed over a piece of paper._

_“What’s this?”_

_“I know how naked you feel without your weapons, so this is a permit for you to travel with three sets of your knives,” grinned the devil. Maze’s eyes widened. “Checked luggage of course. So for your carry-on, I have something else.” He handed her a wrapped gift containing a small, elegant looking casket, which she opened. In it was a round, 20-inch crest that appeared to be made of plastic and was imprinted on both sides with the yin yang symbol._

_“What is this?” asked the demon disbelievingly._

_He took the crest, pressed the dots and the crest broke into two unmistakable scythe-like weapons. She grinned and took them, expertly spun them in her hands before sliding them back together to their harmless appearance._

_“Alright!” she exclaimed. “Not just plastic, I gather?”_

_“A devil never reveals his tricks.”_

After a memorable farewell party, with Linda and Ella being hilarious drunks (especially Linda), it seemed ridiulous not to visit Lux more often, especially after learning that Frank would continue to live at Lux, staying at the apartment left behind by Maze. After _Gomorrah’s Fall_ set fire to the church for his progressive views on gay rights, Father Frank had gone to the bishop in order to receive support and advice on what to do next. The priest never went into detail about what happened during that conversation; all they knew was that he left the bishop’s office without his trusted white collar. When they asked him, he said that he no longer felt connected to the church. He was as devout as ever, but he believed that the fire was God’s way of saying that it was time to move on. Unfortunately, he said that around Lucifer who told him that he could _guarantee_ that the fire was neither God’s doing nor wish. Ultimately, it turned out that, rather that giving sermons, Frank preferred to be more hands-on in his approach and found a youth center nearby Lux that was looking for a supervisor and teacher. His skillset more than qualified him for the job and the youth center took him all too happily. In addition to that, Ella’s church was looking for an organist, and that was where Frank ended up. He lived at Lux, worked at the youth center and played in Ella’s church. He was more than just content ( _“Oh Daniel, I am as happy as I’ve ever been in a decade.”_ ).

Today, the former priest kept the promise he made to Dan’s daughter and he was playing the organ for an absolutely overjoyed Trixie. She sat next to him on the bench watching the man’s sure movement with intense concentration. Dan noticed a dark figure standing by one of the columns several feet away, and approached him.

“Detective Daniel,” greeted the devil with a nod. His eyes were closed.

“Lucifer. Not exactly the place I expected you to be,” replied Dan.

“Don’t worry,” laughed the club owner. “I won’t burst into flames, wouldn’t have even before I semi-kind of made up with Dad.” That was not news to Dan. Lucifer told them soon after Chloe could finally bring herself to meet her almost-partner at Lux.

“Can I ask you a question?” asked the homicide detective as Frank’s beautifully talented fingers continued to play songs for his daughter.

“Of course.”

“What was the deal you struck with your father?”

“What deal? My vacation? That was an offer, a recompensation if you will but not a deal. There’s a difference between the two.”

“Not that. For Sodom and Gomorrah. This has been bugging me for a while now. What kind of deal did you strike?”

“Oh, that.” Lucifer’s facial expression turned from lively to solemn. “It was the first time I was allowed to visit Earth after… after. I told him that I would do it if I were allowed to visit Earth in the future whenever I wanted to without being disturbed by an onslaught of angelic brothers that want to throw me back into prison. Being able to take weekend trips, so to speak.”

“I see,” said Dan, not knowing what to say.

“Seems harsh, doesn’t it?” asked Lucifer casually. “I condemned thousands of people, some of whom deserved it whereas others… Divine judgment isn’t kind, Daniel, I am sorry to say. If it was, then the task wouldn’t have never been distributed the way it was.” He sounded genuinely regretful.

“I get it, I think, so that was it. You bargained vacation time.”

“Yes. Well,” he added after a moment. “That and the hellhounds.”

“Hellhounds?” Daniel repeated, confused.

“There are no dogs in Hell,” Lucifer began, which was a piece of information that Daniel was familiar with, but which came from a more innocent time where he still believed the man was delusional. “They all go to Heaven. It is utterly cruel to condemn them to an eternity in Hell, but… Dad agreed that, upon exacting judgment over the cities, he would send a few choice souls that could decide whether or not they wanted to follow me to Hell so to speak. Three _Epicyon haydeni_ souls, which had spent several million years in Heaven and were intent on exploring something new, followed me. Good old Kerb, Barghest and dearest Mamau. I miss them.”

“Wait, Kerb?” Dan stared. “As in Cerberus?”

“Yes,” replied Lucifer with a grin. “Really, the Greek had this strange fascination with multi-headed creatures, but then they must be a frightening sight for those souls destined for Hell, brought back from the brink of death.  They’re lovely, though. They had one pup a couple of thousand years ago and two pups fairly recently, which I named Castor and Pollux. Maera wanted to explore the realms outside of Hell, so she’s still out there, exploring.”

“So this is where the legends of _El Chupacabra_ come from,” Dan replied numbly.

“What? No, no, this is where the stories of _Cŵn Annwn_ come from. Welsh mythology. It’s been a while since she’s visited Earth. The stories of the Chupacabra have an interesting background, however, because-“ He halted upon hearing the excited shout for ‘Lucifer!’ His answering _‘Gah! Hello, small human’_ would never not be funny.

“Trixie!”

They all turned at Chloe’s voice. She had just entered the church with Ella and Linda, who had both proclaimed their excitement over listening to a private concert delivered by Frank.

Lucifer instantly took a step away from their daughter, though he had by no means initiated the contact.

“Detective, Ms. Lopez, Doctor, it is good to see you!” exclaimed the devil in excitement, almost as happy to see them as Trixie who ran over to give her mother a hug.

Not far behind them was Dr. Foster. Today was the last the day of her official stay in LA. Simmons and Bianchi had already left a couple of days ago, very much to Lucifer’s disappointment who openly stated that he would have loved to spend the night with Agent Bianchi and his wife. Dr. Foster had stayed a little longer to wrap up her report and because Frank asked her to. The reason had been quite devastating.

_“So, what’s up with you and the doctor, Frank?” asked Dan out of curiosity._

_“Nothing nefarious, I assure you, but… Lucifer taught me that souls can be connected, especially if they are twins, and Sierra Foster, her sister, killed herself. As much as Lucifer detests this particular ‘arbitrary rule Dad set up’, I’m quoting here obviously, suicide always leads to your soul’s damnation. It doesn’t matter if you were a sinner or a saint throughout your life. Suicide isn’t forgiven,” explained the former priest gravely, and Dan felt a shiver run down his spine. “I did not know, and was quite horrified to hear what I feared was true. “_

_“What does the sister’s death have to do with Dr. Foster?”_

_“Sierra killed a man to save Dr. Foster and committed suicide due to her own guilt. Dr. Foster’s…Tara’s guilt over that is enough to tag her for Hell, but her soul is connected to her sister in a way that condemns her to Hell even if she lives the life of a saint,” explained Frank urgently. “Lucifer is trying to untag her, have her let go off the guilt, but… he asked me for help. I’ve not been very successful either, I’m afraid.”_

_“Let me help.”_

Unsurprisingly, it was really difficult to start a conversation about Heaven and Hell with someone who had gone through metaphorical hell in her childhood and was scarred by a cult that used a perverted form of Christianity as a means of power. As a cop, Dan had a lot experience with interviewing traumatized people, but to this day, he had barely managed to talk to her.

“Dr. Foster,” greeted Lucifer. As usual, he looked happy to see her and much more serene than usual.

“Mr. Morningstar. I’m here to say goodbye. Frank told me you’d be here,” she began before addressing everyone. “I wanted to thank you all for your help. Without you, the outcome of this case would’ve been quite catastrophic. The followers truly believed that the leader, who is still unaccounted for, unfortunately, was an actual angel and that he would bring down Heaven’s wrath on the cities that represented a modern Sodom and Gomorrah in their opinion.” She shook her head. “I have studied and personally experienced some very strange cults, but I’ll never truly understand the manipulative power of a cult leader. They actually believed him… Well, anyway. Thank you, and I hope to catch up with you next time I’m in LA.”

“Before you leave,” Frank spoke up. “There was one more song that I wanted to show Trixie. Would you mind joining in? You told me that you still sing in a choir because music has been your only safe haven in a world of pain.”

Dr. Foster did not look particularly happy, but she did not refuse. Still, she warned, “Please, don’t take away my sanctuary, Frank.”

“I’d never dare,” was the solemn reply before he started to play. It did not take Dan two chords to know what it was. Chloe also stiffened. They had been forced to listen to that particular song too many times to like it. However, this was for Dr. Foster, so Dan simply joined. He was not the best singer on Earth, but he was not too bad either. Chloe also joined in together with Ella. Their voices harmonized beautifully. Linda was sitting there with a solemn expression. Trixie, obviously noticing the mood, was very quiet. Dr. Foster turned out to have an excellent singing voice

Lucifer’s eyes were closed, but he did not sing.

 _Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound_  
_That saved a wretch like me_  
_I once was lost, but now am found_  
_T'was blind but now I see_

Lucifer joined in for the second verse, and it was so hauntingly beautiful that everyone else stopped singing in favor of listening to the fallen angel.

 _T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear_  
_And Grace, my fears relieved_  
_How precious did that grace appear_  
_The hour I first believed_

 _Through many dangers, toils and snares_  
_We have already come._  
_T'was grace that brought us safe thus far_

Dr. Foster was the only one to complement the man’s perfect baritone for the finale. They carried each other’s voices perfectly and Dan felt his eyes moisten in response. Dr. Foster’s eyes were wet, but her voice was as steady as a rock.

_And grace will lead us home,  
And grace will lead us home_

_Amazing grace, how sweet the sound_  
_That saved a wretch like me_  
_I once was lost but now am found_  
_T'was blind but now I see_

_Was blind, but now I see._

The devil never looked more like an angel than when he stood before the FBI’s religious expert. She was crying. He offered his open palms and she grasped them tentatively as she looked up into his eyes.

“Have a safe journey, my dear doctor,” murmured the fallen angel.

She nodded, blinking quickly to dispel tears, but she did not cry.

“I’ll be fine, Mr. Morningstar,” said she softly and smiled. “I’m a big girl, you know.”

Gently squeezing her hands, he looked positively miserable, “I know, I just wish…” He stopped before adding, “I’ll see you around.”

“I look forward to it,” she smiled, before answering his squeeze, detaching herself from him, and hugging Frank. Everyone else, she offered a wave and left quickly.

Trixie’s whimper as their normally happy, always incredibly brave little girl tried to hold in her own tears, shook both Chloe and Dan from their reveries. Chloe immediately approached their daughter and hugged her tightly.

“It didn’t work, did it?” asked Dan with resignation, standing next to Lucifer.

“No,” was the sad reply. “Sometimes, it just… I’ll make sure they end up in the same room. Perhaps, that’s all they need. Maybe one day, I can coax them out and give them what they deserve.” There was silence for a moment, interrupted only by Trixie’s near-silent sobs. “Apologies, Small Human. We didn’t mean to make you cry. Do you want me to play you something? Music is my domain after all, might as well put it to better use.”

Trixie who was still holding onto her mother, looked up to face Lucifer and then said solemnly, “My song, please.”

“Of course,” smiled the devil gently, sat down next to Frank who padded his shoulder, and together they played an organ version of _Je ne regrette rien_. This time, he was kind enough to translate it for their daughter, whispering the translation right after singing the original lines.

_Non, rien de rien  
Non, je ne regrette rien_

“No, absolutely nothing  
No, I regret nothing”

_Car ma vie, car mes joies  
Aujourd'hui... ça commence avec toi!_

“Because my life, because my joy  
Today... it begins with you!”

The ending sounded like a promise to all of them.

And if there was one thing that Dan knew about the devil, it was this:

_“My word is my bond."_

And if there was one thing that Dan had learned _from_ the devil, it was that there was no need to wish upon a star. All you needed could be found right here on Earth and, if life took a turn and one of them ended up in Hell, well, they were friends with the owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> https://prehistoric-fauna.com/Epicyon-haydeni  
> https://www.researchgate.net/publication/267156823_Phylogeny_classification_and_evolutionary_ecology_of_the_Canidae  
> https://www.thoughtco.com/prehistoric-dogs-1093301 => Epicyon (15-5 Mio years ago)  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evolution_of_the_wolf  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maera  
> https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kerberos  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hellhound  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chupacabra
> 
>  
> 
> NEW STORY:  
> I plan on a pre-season 1 story that is primarily a case fic, and a crossover with Criminal Minds. It deals with some very horrific crimes, but it will not be more graphic than what you've seen here.


End file.
